


Resurgence

by ladyshadowdrake



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: A/B/O, I don't think it's possible to burn slower, John Granby/OMC, M/M, Slow Burn, look I had fun in the world building department, lots of world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:55:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 104,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24944218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyshadowdrake/pseuds/ladyshadowdrake
Summary: Laurence has successfully hidden as a beta the whole of his adult life. Being discovered as an omega is his worst nightmare next to losing Temeraire, but he will endure the former to avoid the latter.
Relationships: William Laurence/Tenzing Tharkay
Comments: 386
Kudos: 408





	1. Part One - Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I am 82,000 words into this one at the time of posting, so I'll be ahead of the posting curve for a good long while. 
> 
> I am getting back into the swing of interacting with humans again, so please leave comments or come visit me on Tumblr at: https://lightshadowverisimilitude.tumblr.com/
> 
> Many thanks to @eak1mouse and @onemuseleft for being my patient betas and cheerleaders.

Laurence stood at the rail and watched England disappear beyond the horizon. Somewhere ahead of him was China. Below his feet was Yongxing and the whole of his embassy with seven or eight months in close quarters and nothing else to do with their time but try to separate him from Temeraire. 

The part of his heart that had always been drawn to the sea was relaxed in a way it had not been in the months since he and Temeraire had been set ashore in Dover, but he was surprised to realize that it no longer quite felt like home to him. He had been at sea for eighteen years and had always felt a little ill-at-ease on solid land before. 

His first brief trip on a ship had been his uncle’s merchant vessel when he'd been about nine. At the time, he’d thought it a real marvel, though in reality it was quite a small vessel with a crew of only fifteen. They had traveled far enough away from the shore that Laurence could see nothing but endless ocean in all directions. He had felt a swelling sense of wonder, at once both alone in all the world and connected to it in a way that he couldn’t explain. His heart had been for the sea from that moment on. At least until Temeraire.

Laurence reached out and set a hand on Temeraire’s forearm. He wanted nothing more in that moment than their clearing at Loch Laggan, but he could only be grateful for their reunion, even if that reunion lasted only as long as the journey to China. He pulled himself up into the comfortable crook of Temeraire’s arm to enjoy the warmth of the sun and the cool salt breeze. If staying onshore wouldn’t have risked the Admiralty changing their minds about sending him and his whole crew with Temeraire, Laurence would have preferred to remain on land for another two or three weeks to get through his cycle before being confined to the ship.

It did not matter. He had gone through dozens of cycles onboard and could manage another. It would not be as comfortable or easy to hide as when he had been in command of the ship, but that, too, he had done before. A five-day fever would not be uncommon or unexpected on a long sea voyage, though he did not like that it would come so soon when Temeraire was intent on playing the nursemaid and concerned over his health. Laurence could already feel the prickly sense of discomfort of the cycle, and guessed that he had maybe two or three days until he was in the thick of it. He looked up at Temeraire. From the angle, he could really only see the underside of Temeraire’s chin and the thin tendrils dangling over the side of his jaw. 

Laurence would have to try to endure as long as he could to stay at Temeraire’s side and alleviate his concerns as much as possible. If he was lucky, the exhaustion brought on by his recent injury would work in his favor, and he would sleep through the first part of it, though he would need to isolate himself in his cabin once the fever came on or risk discovery.

Over the years, he had grown accustomed to laying the groundwork for his periods of isolation, and coughed into his fist. 

“Laurence?” Temeraire asked immediately, alarmed. “Oh, it is too cold. Roland! Do bring another blanket!” he ordered before Laurence could even get his fist down from his face. 

“My dear, no, I am quite well. Please do not concern yourself.” 

He needn’t have bothered to protest. Roland had jumped up and was already gone belowdecks, though he did manage to put a stop to it before Keynes was summoned, and immediately felt guilty for the ruse. He had never liked it, play acting at being ill, but a convenient fever was the only means he could reliably use to lock himself in his cabin and trust that his crew would not bother him for fear of spreading the sickness. If any of his crews had ever suspected the cause of his illness, no one had let on. 

Roland reappeared with the second blanket, and Laurence withheld his frustration at the treatment as she was directed by his overgrown mother hen to wrap it around his shoulders. She had also taken the initiative of bringing a cushion, and tucked this between his neck and Temeriare’s arm. 

“Thank you, Roland,” Laurence said dryly. She gave him an impish grin and danced back to her play with the other runners. 

It was going to be a long week. 

~*~

Laurence was practiced at hiding the initial onset of his cycle, but that had been easier when he’d had actual duties and could blame the vagaries and stresses of command for any shortness in his tone. It was different when he had a very attentive dragon who had little to do with his time other than hover over Laurence. He watched Riley and Purbeck on deck with a growing sense of jealousy and irritation. Every order built up the annoyance under his skin until it was all he could do to tuck himself in between Temeraire’s arms and feign sleep. Even then, sleep came rarely, so he had to just clench his teeth and try to block out the sounds and scents around him. 

“Laurence, are you quite sure you are well? The wound is not bothering you?” Temeraire asked when Laurence woke in overheated agitation, already struggling out of his nest of blankets before he was even fully aware. 

Laurence blinked rapidly, trying to place himself. The sky was dark above him, stars wheeling ahead. For a panicky moment, he thought he’d fallen asleep on watch, but finally registered Temeraire’s chest at his back and remembered where he was and why. He was parched, and the hand he dragged across his forehead came away slick with sweat. His leg also ached in dull fire of complaint, dragging the memory of the skirmish with the French and subsequent confusion of the harness straps tangled around his leg, the later horror of his crew standing with weapons raised opposite Marines. 

Shaking his head to dislodge the spiral of memory before it dragged him under to waking nightmares, Laurence patted at Temeraire’s chest. 

“I think, perhaps I am not feeling well after all,” he said finally, struggling to his feet.

“I will call for Keynes immediately -!”

“No, Temeraire, please do not disturb anyone on my account. I will just go below and get some sleep. I am certain that I shall be well again soon.” He patted at Temeraire’s hide and stood, but kept one hand on the smooth black scales as he walked around Temeraire’s outstretched arm to the stairs leading off the dragon deck. 

Temeraire called after him in some concern, but Laurence feigned not to have heard and made his way down the hatch, clutching unsteadily at the rail as he went. He felt faint and dizzy, his stomach twisting and chest aching. He did not run into anyone en route to his quarters and bolted the door firmly behind him. Laurence drained the tankard of water on the cabin’s small table, and then crawled into his hammock and closed his eyes against the prickling burn.

The sway of his hammock was familiar, but the motion was not pleasant with his stomach squirming with nausea and his head throbbing. He reached out blindly to put one hand on the bulkhead, but it didn’t help to stabilize him. Heat was already building under his skin, and he guessed that the next morning would see his cycle take hold in earnest.

~*~

Part way through the next day, Riley came to see him. Laurence thought that if anyone had guessed the truth about him, it would be Riley. Laurence had made something of a name for himself by taking young officers under his wing and then recommending them to other captains after a year or so of service. As a result, he had developed an odd reputation as both a fighting captain and something like a school master. Other captains were always happy to take his young officers, already well-trained, while Laurence would accept a new batch of fresh faces at the onset of the following voyage. 

Riley, though, had come up under him from midshipman, and had been his longest-serving officer. It was as much at Riley’s fervent insistence as for the growing friendship between them, but it had been dangerous for him as well. The frequent change over of his officers meant that very few of them had ever seen him through more than one cycle, while Riley had likely witnessed a dozen or more. Surely, enough to do the math. 

Despite this, Riley had never so much as hinted at a suspicion. When he called through the door, Laurence hesitated only a moment before cracking it open. 

“My apologies, Captain Riley. I appear to have a bit of a fever. It is probably best if I do not accept visitors for the time being.” 

Riley did not try to push into the cabin, but nodded to him. “Of course, Captain. Your dragon has been asking for you, and I would like to prevent any … anxiety. Might I carry word to him?”

Laurence considered straightening his clothing and going up topside, but he was in no condition to be around people for anything less than an emergency. As his cycle progressed, he would become increasingly more unstable and have less self control. The damage of being on deck with potentially hundreds of witnesses could not be easily understated. 

“Please tell him I am well enough, just tired. If I am feeling better this evening, I will come up.”

Riley gave him a critical once over, but nodded. He handed a bell through the hand’s breadth of space Laurence had left open. “If you need anything, please ring for it. I have made it a general order to keep this corridor clear during the day where possible, though there will be men at the far end if you have need of anything.” 

“Thank you, Captain,” Laurence said sincerely. His eyes fastened briefly to the cut of Riley’s jaw, the soft space just behind the ear. He shook himself to break the spell and accepted the bell, keeping his fingers well away from Riley’s in the exchange. He closed the door firmly and leaned forward to rest his forehead against it to listen to Riley’s steps as they retreated. 

The pressure low in his pelvis built up so quickly that it made him gag. He doubled over, knees hitting the deck. He tore at the ties of his trousers and shoved his hand inside, but it took nothing more than pushing his fingers against the warmth just behind his balls to come, blinding fast and so hard that it was more pain than pleasure. 

He toppled sideways and gasped for breath, the heat and urgency momentarily abated, though the customary anger took its place. It was a useless anger. Outside of his cycle, he could discipline himself to dismiss it. This was biology, and it was not a thing that had been done to him out of spite, though he had railed against God enough in his youth. In the grips of it, he could barely see past the rage that the majority of the population was never held in this miserable prison, and society would be more than happy to punish him for it if anyone ever learned the truth.

~*~

Sometime around midnight, fucked out on his own hand, oversensitized and shaking with reaction, Laurence nonetheless took the time to clean himself with meticulous care, dress neatly, and make the trip above decks to see Temeraire. The corridor was clear, and the deck was empty but for the officer of the watch, a pair of hands playing cards around a lantern some ways down the deck, and Granby sitting at Temeraire’s elbow with a novel open on his knees, reading aloud by lamplight. 

“Laurence!” Temeraire declared loudly enough to pull the sailors’ attention from their game, interrupting Granby mid-sentence. 

“Captain,” Granby greeted, obviously not at all offended to be interrupted. If anything, he looked rather relieved.

“Mr. Granby, my apologies for the interruption,” Laurence said anyway. Granby had discarded his coat, and his neckcloth hung open over his shoulders, revealing a strip of skin, sweat slick in the hollow of his throat. 

Laurence yanked his eyes forcefully away, already feeling the resurgence of heat below his belt. He cleared his throat and crossed the dragon deck to the rail. Cool spray hit his face and he breathed in the air. He would have liked to have his window open, but, under the right conditions, the water could carry sound for miles. The last thing he needed was Temeraire hearing whatever noises he couldn’t suppress and becoming more worried, or, worse, anyone else hearing him and knowing exactly what he was doing. 

“Are you well, Laurence?” Temeraire asked anxiously, leaning down to bring his eye level with Laurence’s face, his chin just hovering above the railing. “Captain Riley was kind enough to let me know he had spoken with you, but I do hope your wound is not troubling you. Perhaps we should return to England, Laurence. At least until you are well. If Prince Yongxing does not wish to wait, he can go on without us. I am quite sure I could make it back to land from here." 

“My dear, it is only a fever, and you see that I am much improved already. I am sure in another day or so, you will hardly know that I had ever been ill.” He stroked Temeraire’s soft nose. For the first time, he truly wished he could share this burden with someone else. It felt wrong to hide any part of himself from Temeraire, but he had been keeping this secret for so long that he wasn’t sure he could have made himself say it, even if they were not surrounded by ears. Laurence was not willing to rely on the polite fiction of ignorance for this. 

He swayed at another wave of heat boiling up out of his gut and over his chest. He disguised it by leaning against Temeraires’ cheek and resting his forehead on the eye ridge. 

“You do feel quite warm,” Temeraire said in obvious concern. 

“You are right, my dear. Perhaps I will return to my cabin. I will see you tomorrow. Mr. Granby.” He nodded his head to his first lieutenant, who watched him very carefully, but nodded back as Laurence passed him on the way to the hatch. 

~*~

The rest of his cycle passed uneventfully. Once he felt the last of the heat fade and hunger starting to return, he opened his windows to air the cabin out and gathered his linens to be washed. He was greeted warmly at the breakfast table, and reassured those present of his returned health. He was ravenous, but made himself maintain the fiction of having just recently recovered from illness and took his gruel and biscuit without complaint. 

Depending on their luck with the winds and how much Riley pushed their speed, he might have one more cycle to withstand aboard. He could not honestly say if he would prefer to weather the potential suspicion or concern of appearing to catch the same brief illness twice in so short a period, or risk being incapacitated in China. 

He would endure it either way. He hardly had a choice in the matter. 


	2. Chapter One

Laurence had managed to sleep for most of the slow rowboat trip from Guangzhou to Dongguan, despite the best efforts of his crew to be very quiet - and therefore managing to be very loud. He had only just recovered from his second cycle aboard ship, and he was resigned to his crew beginning to think of him as having a fragile constitution, to say nothing of Temeraire’s thoughts on his health. Once in Chinese territory, the prince and his aides had refused to allow Temeraire to carry even Laurence, which had briefly put them at risk of being dumped overboard by said dragon and had sent Hammond into a fit of anxiety.

The boat bumped gently against the pier in Dongguan an hour after nightfall. Laurence took the stairs up to the pier, the way lit only by the boat’s lanterns. The stairs seemed to bob and sway as though he were still on the deck of the  _ Allegiance, _ despite them being firmly anchored. Hammond came up behind him, stumbling on the slick steps and curled slightly over. Even after nearly eight months at sea, he was still inclined toward seasickness, and had been noisily ill at least three times on the day trip up river.

By the time he made it to the pier, a swarm of Chinese porters were unloading the boat, pulling baggage off at a truly impressive rate. Laurence was initially annoyed, but he saw that the boat’s contents were being carefully inventoried and set neatly aside. A small puddle of calm in the chaos, one man was waiting apart from the others at the end of the pier. Next to him was an assistant holding a writing desk strapped to his waist and shoulders and a tall staff with a lantern to cast light on his papers. The man was obviously an official and was dressed in elaborate robes, a black cap with a long red tassel, and a truly ostentatious necklace of gold and winking gemstones.

He was also an omega. Their gazes met in the lamplight, and Laurence saw the same understanding in the stranger's dark eyes. Laurence had met a handful of other omegas, and even one other, who, like himself, had been successfully passing as a beta. That same awareness had been instant with every one of them. Laurence could not have explained how he recognized another of his own any more than he could explain why a beta could not, but the knowledge had always been sure and instant. A moment of kinship, a kind of relief at being in the presence of someone who understood, and then anxiety at being known.

Even for an omega who was married and dressed to their station, Laurence had never addressed them as such before they introduced themselves that way, and he had never had another omega even blink at him in a manner that might give him away. He had felt a similar, though much more alarming, recognition when he'd met Captain Barstowe for the first time. Barstowe was the only alpha Lurence had ever met in person, and that man’s death to pneumonia three months into their voyage had likely saved Laurence’s life in more ways than one. 

He could not know how this unspoken accord would translate in China, but he made no outward sign that he recognized the man’s orientation, and the stranger’s own expression remained only polite as Laurence and Hammond approached. Laurence gestured to him and asked Hammond to inquire after Temeraire, which Hammond was only too happy to do. Rather than respond directly to Hammond, the official looked to Laurence, inclining his head as he answered. 

Next to him, Hammond made a choking noise, responding to the official in a hurried rush, hands waving in front of him. 

“What is going on?” Laurence demanded. 

“There has been some kind of mistake,” Hammond explained. “The, uh, the form of address he used for you - that is - first, Captain, you must understand that here, omegas are treasured and attributed with grace, intelligence, beauty, even divinity. They are celebrated scholars, poets, artists, politicians. No matter who their parents are, any omega would be addressed this way. Please, do not take offense, Captain. There is no implication - that is, there is no sense of shame. No insult at all. I will, of course, correct him at once.” 

Laurence felt the blood in his veins turn to ice. Underneath his ribs, his stomach twisted into knots, and his legs went suddenly liquid with weakness. He stared at the other omega in shock. Perhaps a dozen of the nearby servants had stopped what they were doing to bow low to him, and the omega himself had inclined his head at an angle that Laurence guessed marked him as a peer.

Hammond continued babbling at the official, but the man only looked at Laurence curiously, reaching up to touch the necklace draped over his chest. Around him, the servants who had stopped to bow were beginning to look confused. Subdued whispers rose while Laurence’s heartbeat grew louder and faster. It would be only a matter of moments before his own crewmen caught on that something strange was occurring and his whole life was brought down around his feet.

In the lull while the official absorbed Hammond’s latest barrage, Hammond leaned over to whisper, “You’ll forgive me for saying, but would that you  _ were _ omega, Captain, it would solve near all of our problems.” He looked up as though to share a joke with Laurence, and then took in the expression on Laurence’s face and stuttered to a stop. “Not that I am suggesting-! Captain, of course, I would  _ never _ imply that you -”

Hammond’s words swirled in his head. No sense of shame, and all their problems solved. Did anything matter other than keeping Temeraire? He met Hammond’s gaze, nearly shaking in terror as he contemplated what it would mean to let go of the secret he had hidden from even his own parents since he first presented at fifteen. Slowly, the babble of Hammond’s reassurances faded. His mouth dropped open quite rudely. 

“Captain? Certainly  _ not _ ,” he said, the pitch of his voice rising sharply. “Why would you not have  _ told _ me?” he hissed. 

“Mr. Hammond!” Laurence interrupted. He felt moments away from being physically ill, and cold as if all his blood had suddenly drained away. “If my own father has been kept in the dark in this matter, you may rest well assured that I would not have confided in you under any circumstances.” He kept his voice low, trying to avoid the notice of the aviators even now drifting toward them. 

Hammond’s mouth shut with an audible click. “Y-yes, of course.” He turned abruptly to continue his conversation with the official. The man made his response again to Laurence with another incline of his head. On reflex, Laurence mirrored the gesture back to him, trying to match the angle and depth. From the twitch of the omega’s lips, he guessed that he had not quite managed it, but his attempt was acknowledged with a slow nod, the other omega’s eyes closing briefly. 

“He says that Temeraire is resting in the Pavilion of Quiet Waters, and that our party is meant to rest elsewhere. You, of course, shall be conveyed there immediately. Please make an objection, loudly, so that I may protest our being separated from you,” Hammond said quietly. 

Laurence, who had few complaints as long as he would not be expected to be separated from Temeraire, jolted back in surprise and managed, “I - I will not be separated from my party!” The protest was stilted and awkward on his tongue. 

Despite Laurence’s poor performance, Hammond turned to the official with an expression of apology, hands opening as he continued the dialogue. Several minutes of conversation passed between them. The omega official addressed all of his comments to Laurence first, and Hammond prompted him to some response or another where necessary. He had never been much of an actor, and his great secret, his one lifelong lie, had been a lie of omission. No one had ever suspected, no one had ever asked him, he had never had to make a denial. 

Eventually, the official agreed that his crew would be moved to lodgings closer to the pavilion, though only Hammond would be permitted to stay with him in the pavilion itself to act as his translator and, apparently, personal servant. 

“Is it wise to classify yourself that way?” Laurence asked uncertainly. He would have vastly preferred to claim Granby in that role if anyone needed to be there at all, though he was deeply conscious that the likelihood of his secret getting out would dramatically increase with the more people he had around him.

Hammond hesitated, but said, “Our whole strategy must necessarily change in light of this new information.”

Laurence felt another swift drop in his stomach. He glanced around, but they were surrounded only by Chinese servants and guards. His crew was further back and still out of earshot. “Mr. Hammond,” he said slowly. “I hope I might rely on your discretion…" But there, his words failed.

He was not accustomed to begging, and he was well aware that Hammond agreeing not to reveal him would make the diplomat an accessory to his crime. If he were found out, Laurence would be stripped of rank, his assets would be returned to his father, and he would be married off to the first eligible alpha who asked for him. He would be in no way consulted on the matter, and the alpha could take him even without his family’s permission. That was only if he was not locked away in a monastery or a sanitarium for the crime of hiding it. 

“Oh, have no doubt on that front, captain,” Hammond said dismissively. “In truth, I am a bit envious of you. It would make my mission here so much easier if I were omega, you know.” 

Laurence’s spine straightened at the sheer absurdity of it. The official line might be that omegas were treasured for their capacity for empathy and the relief and support they provided their alpha spouses, but the reality was that they had, in many respects, fewer rights than even beta women. 

“I don’t suppose you would feel the same if we were still in England, sir,” Laurence said stiffly. 

Hammond flinched. He seemed to be almost preternaturally unconcerned with manners, but his words finally seemed to penetrate. “Captain Laurence,” he said softly, stepping uncomfortably close to him as they continued down the path, “you must realize that you are quite well protected. Just as beta women are given special dispensation to serve in the corps, it would be the same for you. And that only  _ if _ someone in government were to discover your orientation, which is by no means a foregone conclusion." 

Laurence’s jaw tightened. He disliked Hammond’s blithe dismissal of a fear that had haunted him for a decade and a half, and he thought it unlikely that Hammond had the power to make such a promise. Even if that were strictly true, he would become as much a dirty secret of the corps as Jane, if not moreso, and likely thought only to be clinging to his post to save himself from the fate that every other omega in England had to bear. Further, he did not doubt for a moment that Hammond would reveal Laurence's orientation to the whole of the world if it would advance his goals. Laurence sped his steps to prevent himself from saying anything he might come to regret. 

At the very least, he would now owe Temeraire an explanation. If the Chinese perception of omegas was that different from what he was used to, someone would mention it to Temeraire sooner rather than later. It would be better if it came from him. 

~*~

In the early morning when Hammond was still sleeping and the pavilion was quiet and dark, Laurence set a tentative hand on Temeraire's nose to wake him.

"Are you well, Laurence?" Temeraire asked immediately. Laurence deeply regretted that his cycles had predisposed Temeraire to think him sickly, but perhaps he could now alleviate that concern.

"I am perfectly well, Temeraire. I only hoped for a moment to speak in privacy. I am sorry to have woken you. It can wait if you would prefer more rest. There is still another hour or so before sunrise." The last was a species of cowardice that made him flush, but Temeraire only sat up and stretched in the predawn gloom, informing Laurence that he was quite awake. 

With Temeraire looking expectantly down at him, Laurence found his prepared speech evaporating. He had hardly slept for composing it, carefully wording the apologies and reassurances that he had meant no lack of confidence in Temeraire by not speaking sooner. He took a slow breath and let it back out. He had never said the words aloud, not even in the silence and darkness of an empty room to make it real to himself. 

"Temeraire," he said finally, fighting past the swirling sickness in his gut. "Temeraire, do you remember the conversation we had once about the orientation of people?"

He felt his cheeks heat slightly as he remembered the conversation himself. Temeraire had overheard two of the crew having a lewd conversation and discussing how they would like to catch an omega in heat. Temeraire had been curious as to what sort of creature an omega was, and what they meant by “catching it in heat.” Laurence had gone near purple with rage at the thought of a member of his crew entertaining such notions, and not merely because he was omega himself. It had been all he could do to restrain himself long enough to explain orientation dynamics to Temeraire before tracking them down. The hapless riflemen had lost their liberty for a month, and they were frankly lucky that they hadn't been at sea at the time, or he might have flogged them himself. 

"Yes, of course," Temeraire said, tone growing curious. 

"Temeraire, I." Laurence stopped. A wave of anxiety momentarily swamped him, and he had to focus on breathing through his nose to suppress the nausea. Logically, he knew that Temeraire would not turn away from him, but fifteen years of fears pressed close to his shoulders and whispered that no one would think an omega was worthy to captain either a ship or a dragon, maybe not even the dragon himself. That if he said the words aloud, he would be snapped up at once and chained to some alpha's bed.

"Are you going into heat again?" Temeraire asked into the lull, fairly shocking the breath right out of Laurence's lungs. "Only, you have just got done with it, and your cycle is some seven months, is it not?"

“How-? Who told you that I – that I am omega?” he choked out, cringing at the words

Temeraire blinked his great eye and tilted his head to bring Laurence into focus. “I don’t suppose that anyone told me. It is simply plain that you are. Is it very unusual to know this?”

“Prodigiously unusual, my dear! To my knowledge, I have never been identified on sight by anyone other than another omega or an alpha. Does… my God, Temeraire, can all dragons tell?”

“Well, certainly,” Temeraire said in some bemusement. “Of course, I am also alpha, but I am quite sure that Lily and Maximus have noticed. Do you mean to say that our betas cannot?”

Laurence stared at him. Temeraire was completely oblivious to the multiple shocks he had so casually delivered. Laurence had never heard that a dragon might have any orientation at all and thought it as likely that Temeraire had decided himself alpha after their earlier conversation on the orientation of humans. He also recognized, with abrupt clarity, the possessive on ‘ _ our betas.’ _ He had thought it before only a quirk, that Temeraire used the term interchangeably with “crew,” but now realized that Temeraire considered them to be  _ their betas _ , as though they were a pack.

He swallowed. “No, they cannot, and if they could, I would have never been in a position to secure your egg in the first place. In England… if it were known, I would be as like to become some alpha's property as anything."

Temeraire went rigid with anger. "Property?" He hissed. "As a slave?"

A denial leapt at once to his lips. Property had not been the correct word. Omegas were not slaves, alphas were just possessive to the extreme. Except, of course, there was no other word for it. An omega could not travel alone without their alpha's written permission, could not own property or manage their financial affairs, could not even form friendships without the permission and supervision of their alpha. They were not paraded down the street in chains, but what did that matter? Alphas could, and sometimes did, give their omega to another, permanently or temporarily, and the omega could not even lodge a protest of ill treatment. Only the polite fiction of gentile society kept an omega in any state of comfort at all, and one alpha challenging another for possession of the omega if they seemed to be mistreated was the only hope an omega had to be released from a bad situation. 

"Yes, Temeraire," he said softly. "Very like."

"Oh, I should like to see anyone try!" Temeraire snarled, low in his throat, more angry than Laurence thought he had ever seen him, even including his rage when he’d learned of the attempt on Laurence's life aboard the  _ Allegiance _ . “I do not see that we have to listen to anyone in Government at all if all they are ever doing is making people into slaves and restricting everyone’s liberties! But, Laurence, you said that if we should not like to be in the Aerial Corps, you could buy an estate for us to live in the country.”

Laurence swallowed. “Until last night, no one knew that I was not myself a beta, Temeraire. I could have done so, then.” 

“And only because you were born an omega, they can take it away whenever they like?” Temeraire demanded. 

“In truth, I should never have had any of it to begin with. It was only luck that I was out to sea when I first presented, and the ship’s surgeon misinterpreted my first cycle as an illness that was then spreading through the ship. After I recovered, I realized what must have happened. I took steps to conceal it. The only people who have ever identified me are omegas themselves, and they would not reveal me.” 

He did not mention Captain Barstowe, who had kept Laurence in an agony of terror and anxiety for months before his fatal illness. He had made it very clear that he would claim Laurence at the onset of his heat, and had taken joy in torturing him with the anticipation. When Laurence had refused to be confined to the captain’s cabin to await his cycle, Barstowe had cut his rations, kept him on double watches, and consistently assigned him the most dangerous and unpleasant duties. Barstowe had died only days before Laurence went into cycle. The only blessing in the situation was that Barstowe had been so intent on keeping Laurence for himself that he never told any of the other crew about his orientation. On a ship full of mistreated, rough men, Laurence did not like to think what his situation might have been otherwise.

“If I should have known this, I would have taken you away at once,” Temeraire said. His voice had taken on a dangerous, mulish tone.

“Where should we have gone?” Laurence asked. “All of Europe is much the same.” 

“Then we should go somewhere other than Europe, and they may all go hang,” Temeraire said darkly. “And if someone should ever try to hang  _ you _ , I  _ will _ squash them at once.”

Despite the very real danger of their situation, Laurence found himself smiling. “I do not believe we need fear that, my dear, though we must expect some consequences. My orientation can hardly remain concealed now.”

He pet Temeraire’s talon consolingly and relayed his earlier experience with the Chinese omega, as well as Hammond’s summary of the Chinese viewpoint on omegas, and the man's reassurance that he be would be given special dispensation by the government to remain at his post.

“Well, he did not say that even the Chinese would not try to make you a slave, only that you could be a poet if you wanted,” Temeraire pointed out, obviously now inclined toward the greatest suspicion. 

Laurence nodded. He had noticed that omission himself, but there was little that could be done about it now that he had been found out. It was too much to hope that either the omega or the dozen and more servants who had been present on the pier would not spread the tale. 

“We shall face what comes together,” Laurence said finally. “But, Temeraire, I must know. Are any of the crew aware?” If all the dragons could identify him, he had to assume that all the dragons’ captains back home knew as well. If the dragons were all as nonchalant about the subject as Temeraire had been, their crews might also know.

“I have never discussed it with any of the crew,” Temeraire said, “except for Granby, though I did not tell him myself. I did not realize it was a secret, of course, only I thought it was one of those things that you would not like to have discussed. And anyway, I do not go about telling anyone who will listen that you are a man, which is perfectly obvious, so I can't see as I would ever  _ think _ to discuss it in the first place."

Laurence blanched. “Are you quite sure about Lieutenant Granby?” 

“Oh, yes. I was concerned when you fell ill so early into our trip, but Granby reassured me that it was just a natural product of your biology, and you would be better in a few days, and so you were.”

Laurence’s mind struggled to determine what he had done to give himself away, to pinpoint when Granby had discovered it. Had it only been on the  _ Allegiance _ ? Some noise through the cabin door that Laurence had let escape? Or had he learned of it from one of the other dragons or another crew member? A part of him had always known that he would not remain concealed forever. That he’d made it so long was more than he could have looked for, and he was not so optimistic to hope that no one else would find out when he had been so easily and readily identified the night before. Hammond, he was certain, would use his orientation to every possible benefit, which no doubt meant publicizing it to the Chinese. Enough of his crew had a sufficient grasp of the language now that Laurence would be shocked if his secret lasted the day.

“It does not seem very pleasant to be so sick every seven months. I did not like being ill at all,” Temeraire said in a commiserating tone. He leaned his head over to nuzzle Laurence's chest, nearly knocking him over with the affection.

Laughing bitterly, Laurence set a hand to Temeraire’s nose. “It is not quite the same as being ill, but I cannot say that I prefer it to a cold.” 


	3. Chapter Two

By the time the sun was over the wall, Temeraire had been served a pungent breakfast of seasoned fish and rice, the whole baked into a pastry shaped and decorated to look like a great carp, glazed orange with some sweet syrup and laid on a bed of roasted seaweed and blue flowers. 

Hammond had been dressed and gone by the time Laurence had returned from his talk with Temeraire and the sky was just barely turning gold. He returned as Laurence was securing his neckcloth, followed by Prince Yongxing, the omega official from the night before, and a servant carrying a large lacquered box formally in both hands. 

In the sunlight, Laurence now saw that the official was uncommonly beautiful, and had applied subtle cosmetics to his eyes to further enhance his delicate features. He smiled at Laurence and inclined his head in greeting. Laurence had been too shocked the night before to really notice, but the man was nearly at eye level with him. At his side, Yongxing was stiff with obvious anger, but offered Laurence a shallow nod.

Hammond introduced the official as Li An Tien, and Laurence made them both a stilted bow. He could think of no good reason for these two particular men to visit him in company, and their presence put him immediately on guard.

"Tien means Celestial," Temeraire told him in obvious pleasure once the niceties were out of the way. Laurence recognized the word from Temeraire's Chinese name, but was uncertain of what, if any, significance he should pull from it. 

Temeraire spoke to the official for a moment, obviously asking a question. Yongxing answered him, his expression stiffly neutral, a direct contrast to the warmth Laurence had witnessed when Yongxing had recited poetry aboard for Temeraire. Whatever the response was, it made Temeraire visibly relax, and Li An Tien smiled while listening.

"Oh, but that is lovely," Temeraire said, and then turned to Laurence. "He says that the first omega was born a Celestial dragon. He fell so in love with a human that he became human himself, so all omegas are descended from dragons, and they are part Celestial. This means that you are Laurence Tien." 

"I see," Laurence said. Temeraire had said this with such obvious pride that he could not express how absurd he found the tale, and so he shut his mouth and looked back to his visitors in askance. 

Li An Tien stepped forward, giving Laurence a sweet smile and gesturing for the servant. The other man shuffled forward with fast, tiny steps, his head bowed and arms extended to offer the box. Reluctantly, Laurence reached out to take it, but the servant did not release his grip, so Laurence was obviously expected to open it immediately. He did, revealing a magnificent necklace of gold chain lace, jade, and pearls on a velvet cushion.

Laurence looked in between Li An Tien and Prince Yongxing, sizing up their expressions and trying to guess at both the motivation behind the gift and the relationship between the two men themselves. He was wary of accepting gifts when it was so obvious that Yongxing would like nothing better than to see him pitched out into a typhoon, and he knew nothing of Li An Tien’s stake in anything.

"I call that handsome!" Temeraire purred, leaning forward to examine the necklace more closely, his pupil dilating so wide that it nearly consumed the blue of the iris. 

Li An Tien spoke, gesturing casually to the fortune laid out on the velvet. Laurence guessed that the box alone would fetch twenty pounds in a British market. The necklace would pay a king's ransom with gold to spare.

"He says that it is his pleasure to present you with your first collar," Hammond said, quite missing Laurence's stricken expression as he continued, "Here, collars are only given by one omega to another. It will place you under his personal protection, and that of his family. Pray accept."

Laurence stared at the glittering treasure, finally recognizing the wide band of gold and milky green jade at the top for what it was.His blood ran cold through his veins and his legs felt suddenly weak. He cast a glance to Yongxing, who looked as though he had unexpectedly bitten into a lemon despite the fact that his expression was completely blank, and then to Li An Tien, who smiled encouragingly. 

"It is not from the prince?" he asked in an undertone to Hammond. 

"No, not at all," Hammond answered, and then turned back immediately to speak with Li An Tien. He was apparently expressing Laurence's gratitude, so that Laurence was obliged to hold his hair out of the way when Li An Tien lifted the collar out of the box and turned to fasten it over Laurence's neckcloth.

Laurence kept his head bowed to hide his expression. Being collared had been the worst fear of his life since he’d been a boy of fifteen. His nightmares had given him dozens of grisly scenarios for the event. This had certainly never been one of them, and it was more humiliating for being carried out under the eyes of a foreign - and hostile - prince. He breathed slowly and reminded himself that no price was too steep to keep Temeraire beside him, least of all his dignity. 

Li An Tien leaned in to whisper against his hair, so softly that no one could have heard it to translate, and then stepped away. He radiated a quiet pride as he took in the heavy collar draped over Laurence's shoulders and down his chest. It was uncomfortably tight over the cravat, and Laurence couldn't imagine that it looked anything other than ridiculous over his aviator's coat, but Li An Tien and Temeraire both seemed well satisfied with it. 

Slender fingers felt for Laurence’s jaw, and Li An Tien lifted his face up. Laurence was so mired in shock that he couldn’t even pull away. Li An Tien spoke again, more loudly.

“He says that you need never bow your head to anyone other than the emperor again,” Hammond translated with glowing approval. Laurence had apparently, quite by accident, reacted appropriately, though he doubted that anyone watching understood why he had acted as he had. 

They took tea and breakfast in the pavilion, Laurence struggling not to pull at the chain of the collar to ease his breathing. Hammond translated throughout the meal, though Temeraire could have done as much - and he often interrupted when Hammond had mistranslated some phrase or other. Temeraire had requested that Laurence sit across from him so he could better admire the collar, and occasionally prompted him to change position if the light did not quite hit the stones correctly. 

Laurence wondered what Temeraire would think if he were to liken the finery with the slaver’s chains that had so horrified him at the Cape, but Temeraire was taking so much pleasure in it that Laurence wouldn’t have had the heart to say it even if they had been alone.

Halfway through the meal, Hammond said, “Before I agreed to allow him to present you with the collar, I made my inquiries. Pray nod.” Laurence nodded automatically, but felt heat bloom under his rib cage and the intelligence that Hammond had “agreed to allow it” without consulting him on the matter. 

Oblivious, Hammond continued, “He is from a very prominent household, and we will be well-served by the connection. His family are supporters of the crowned prince, who appears to be the leader of the more liberal faction. I gather that discovering and presenting a new omega is quite a coup. How do you like your breakfast?”

“Express my gratitude,” Laurence said through his teeth, though he honestly couldn’t have even described the meal if he had been asked. He was hyper-aware of the pressure around his throat and the weight on his chest, the musical jingle of chains and bells colliding with each movement.

Once released from the table, Yongxing made himself scarce so quickly he might have sprouted wings, but Laurence held up a polite hand to forestall Li An Tien’s departure. 

“Mr. Hammond, please inquire on my behalf if this gentleman… taking me into his protection gives him or his family the right to - to give me to an alpha.” He set a hand on Temeraire’s forearm to ensure that he had his attention and to also make Hammond aware that Laurence intended to verify the translation of both the question and the answer. 

Hammond went pale, though Laurence could not tell if it was in horror at the idea, or from understanding that Laurence would certainly rip the collar off immediately if that turned out to be the case. He turned to ask the question with obvious hesitation, and Li An Tien replied with his head tilted in confusion.

“Judging from the response, that is very much not the case. He is confused that I would even ask such a thing. I gather it is more the reverse here, and you might - ah, that is. If you wished, you could… command the, ah, well, the  _ attentions _ of an alpha.” 

Laurence flushed hotly. Obviously being equal parts helpful and wishing to express a warning, Temeraire interjected a long comment. By the end of this, Hammond had all but disappeared into his jacket’s collar, and Li An Tien looked frankly horrified. He took two steps forward and swept Laurence’s hands up in his own, squeezing tightly when Laurence automatically attempted to withdraw. He spoke low and urgently, catching Laurence’s eyes and holding them with unnerving intensity. 

“He says that if anyone should dare put a hand on you without your permission, you need only speak, and the offender will have both hands removed at once,” Temeraire said with a tone of satisfaction. 

Laurence’s eyes flickered down to where Li An Tien still held his fingers in a tight grip, but guessed that this penalty did not apply to other omegas. He nodded his understanding, and then jolted back in offended shock when Li An Tien leaned up and kissed his forehead. When the other omega stepped back with a look of profound sadness on his face, Laurence had to restrain himself from ripping the collar off and thrusting it back into Li An Tien’s hands. Seeing the gathering storm, Hammond ushered Li An Tien away with a profusion of polite bows and a waterfall of words. 

Angry, Laurence reached up and unclasped the collar as soon as they were out of sight. 

“Captain, you mustn’t -!” Hammond hissed as he returned to see the collar falling into Laurence’s waiting hand.

“It is too tight,” Laurence interrupted sharply. He had to remind himself that all of this was for Temeraire, and he could withstand this treatment and worse in pursuit of that cause. He took a slow breath, and then withdrew his pocket watch and knife. The links of the watch chain were somewhat broader than the collar’s, and the chain itself was silver, but working patiently with the tip of the knife, he was able to open one of the links. He used the piece of silver chain to extend the length of the collar, and then dropped the watch back into his pocket with a mental note to see if he could have the job done properly and the watch repaired. 

He regarded the collar in his hands with a growing sense of helplessness. He felt at once that he had been caught by a riptide and was now entirely at the mercy of the current. Next to him, Hammond was nearly bursting with anxiety to have it back on, but Laurence would be damned before he would let Hammond collar him. Temeraire, as well, would obviously rather see it back on Laurence’s neck, though he did take the opportunity to suggest that Laurence polish some of the chain while it was off. The notion was perfectly ridiculous, as the whole of it gleamed as though newly made.

Granby entered the pavilion just as Laurence was fumbling the heavy chains about his own neck. With a resigned sigh, Laurence said, “John, I do not mean to make a valet out of you, but could you assist me with this blasted thing?” 

Granby froze, eyes going wide and cheeks blazing so abruptly with color that Laurence would have known in that moment that his secret was out, even if he had not been told. Just then, he was full of gratitude at the forewarning, and managed not to react too badly as Granby recovered himself and crossed the pavilion floor with his hands held out to accept the collar’s chain. 

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Hammond said stiffly, leaving them alone. 

After an awkward moment, Granby held the collar up. Laurence pulled his hair out of the way and turned to save them both the embarrassment of being face-to-face while Granby secured the chain over his neckcloth and tucked the back of it under the collar of his jacket. 

“Isn’t it fine?” Temeraire sighed once the lacework of gold lay again heavy on Laurence’s breast.

“It is… something, all right,” Granby answered uncomfortably. 

Laurence steeled himself as he turned around, both of them automatically stepping back to put a more respectable distance between them. “John, I am wretched sorry to have this all come out this way, but my… it will obviously not be concealed any further, and I. Thank you.” He took an unsteady breath and kept his eyes just left of Granby’s nose, shoulders pulled down and hands tucked at the small of his back. “Thank you.” 

“Not sure what you mean, sir,” Granby said with a decent attempt at stoicism, though the stubborn jut of his jaw and the bright red tint making his freckles stand out sharply across his nose gave him the lie. 

Laurence’s gratitude burned so hot in his chest that he could have embraced Granby then and there. He restrained himself, instead explaining the events of the previous evening and the morning. Temeraire interjected frequently with warm compliments for Li An Tien’s obvious good taste, and one searing condemnation of anyone who was foolish enough to think they might make his captain into a slave. 

Granby mouthed, “Slave?” at him, but Laurence only shook his head. He did not feel steady enough to examine that particular epiphany again so soon. 

“Well, hell,” Granby said succinctly. “If Yongxing has even the slightest notion of the English way of doing things, he will make sure every Englishman from here to London knows of it on the off chance that one of them might drag you home in disgrace, leaving Temeraire behind.”

“They will do no such thing, and I should like to see them try!” Temeraire declared, outraged. “Oh! I  _ should _ have squashed him on the  _ Allegiance _ when he tried to have you killed!”

“My dear, please calm yourself. We still have no proof that he was involved in that incident, or, indeed, if it  _ was _ an incident at all. Nor, for that matter, has he done anything yet to discredit me with anyone else.” He looked to Granby unhappily. “It would nonetheless be best if the crew heard it direct from me.” 

Granby waved his concern away blithely. “The aviators won’t give a fig for it. Lenton is, you know. And anyway, you’re the captain of a heavyweight. No one would dare.”

Laurence gaped at him. He had  _ not _ known that anyone was aware of Lenton’s orientation, and had thought only that Lenton had been lucky enough to never encounter an alpha in service. Now that he thought of it, that seemed ridiculously unlikely. Alphas were snapped up for military service the moment they presented, and catapulted through the ranks fast enough to give a reader of the  _ Naval Chronicle _ whiplash. If Laurence had presented as an alpha rather than an omega, he would have expected to have his own flag by 30 at the latest, and quite likely sooner. That Lenton, as an admiral, would not have encountered at least one alpha in a military meeting was absurd. 

“I can’t say that the marines or the navy folk might not make a fuss, though,” Granby mused. “But if omegas really are so prized here, the merchantmen might turn a blind eye just to have a Brit with some status in the region.” He let out a noisy breath and summed up their situation neatly by saying, “What a mess.” 

Laurence nodded in agreement and resisted the automatic urge to apologize. He did not mean to grovel in front of his own first lieutenant, no matter how much he apparently owed the man. 

“Granby,” Temeraire said. “Do you suppose we should post a guard on Laurence? And perhaps you had best not wander far from me, Laurence, in case one of them should try to kidnap you and take you back to England. I would catch them, of course,” he hurried to reassure, “but perhaps we should be more cautious than not.” 

Laurence meant to immediately decline, but Granby pursed his lips and gave Laurence a sympathetic look. 

“It is not a terrible idea, Captain.” 

Realizing that he would not win that particular argument with them both arrayed against them, he nodded tightly. He would do his best to curb Temeraire’s overprotectiveness as the plans for fortified carts and suits of armor inevitably started rolling in.

Given the circumstances, Laurence supposed he should not worry over security any longer, but still found himself asking, “How did you—when..?”

Granby went red once more. “I have a sister who’s omega. I recognized the signs at your first -” He cut himself off, and Laurence quickly saved him from having to complete the statement with a firm nod of understanding and a cough. 

“We are being called to depart, gentlemen,” Hammond said from the door, back to his customary disregard of polite manners, though in this one instance, Laurence could only be thankful to him for breaking the awkward mood. 

As they followed Temeraire out of the pavilion, Laurence touched a hand to the collar, wanting very much to hide it before any of his crew could see it, sure, now, that it would clearly convey his orientation, despite the jeweled finery being wholly removed from the style of collar favored in England.

“I will take care of it,” Granby said in an aside as they walked the broad street through the surrounding town, but they were both quickly distracted by the startling prevalence of dragons in the streets. 

Small dragons barely larger than a man hurried by on obvious errands, some in harness, others wearing colorful silk sashes. Larger dragons lounged next to uniformed soldiers, and the people around them could be seen climbing over a tail here or a talon there when it was found to be in their way. Laurence even witnessed one slip of a girl arguing vociferously with a dragon who could have swallowed her whole, and he with his teeth only an arm’s length from her face. 

While the crowds initially gave them no notice, someone eventually recognized Temeraire, and the news ran ahead of them as fast as lightning. Shortly, they had a moving mob shadowing them on both sides. All around, the people and dragons bowed low as readily to Laurence as to Temeraire. He was deeply uncomfortable with the attention - or, more to the point, with the reason for the attention. He imagined that the weight of the collar was increasing as the crowd grew, and it felt as though it were burning through his jacket. 

Though he should not have been after Li An Tien’s explanation of hand-removal, he was surprised to see that people were reaching out eagerly to touch Temeraire, while Laurence, they only stared at with expressions of almost rapturous interest. When a turn in the road briefly made their trailing crowd visible, Laurence was alarmed to see people crouched down to touch his footprints, and children being encouraged to lay down in Temeraire’s.

Laurence took advantage of a particularly energetic group of well wishers distracting Temeraire with flowers and offerings to draw Granby subtly away. 

"Have you ever heard of a dragon having an alpha orientation?" he asked, his awareness focusing even more strongly on the weight on his chest. 

Granby's eyes flickered down to the collar and back up quickly, guilty. He cleared his throat. "I've heard some rumor about some… oh, Turkish breed? Maybe Egyptian? I can't recall, but I've heard something of the like. I can't say as we would be able to tell the difference if one were alpha or…otherwise. That is, they're all so jealous of territory and possessive of their captains already, I'm not sure it would be any different if they were actually alpha. I've never heard of one going into a cycle at any rate."

Laurence frowned but nodded. As he'd suspected, Temeraire had claimed the orientation, and might have just as easily declared himself omega. He thought it likely that Temeraire declaring himself alpha had as much to do with him considering Laurence his omega. He felt a squirming in his stomach at the notion, but wondered if that might not answer for their situation in England. After all, they could hardly try to give Laurence to an alpha if he already had one who was more than up to the task of handling any challenger. 

He put the thought in the back of his mind for later examination and urged Granby back to Temeraire's side.

The crew was assembled already by the time they arrived at the tea house where they had been lodged for the evening. Seeing that the road opened up into more widely spaced residences and visible countryside beyond, Laurence realized that Yongxing must have placed them so far from the pavilion intentionally. He had meant for them or Temeraire to walk those streets alone, seeing the dragons existing comfortably beside the citizenry. Laurence wanted to take offense, but found that he was too exhausted by the morning’s events to manage more than a vague sense of annoyance. As this was allegedly closer to the pavilion than the original lodgings, Laurence wondered where Yongxing had thought to place them - out in the countryside? In another town altogether, perhaps?

As he stood in front of his diminished crew, he considered how to handle the situation. He could already see their eyes drawn to his new adornment and recognized the curiosity there. If he said nothing, there would be a host of rumors leaping, fully formed from the ether, into existence moments after he dismissed them. And yet, if he did say something, he put them all in the extremely unpleasant situation of being complicit in his crime. He did not know if everyone truly  _ knew _ of Admiral Lenton’s orientation, or if they only knew it in the way a man aboard ship might ignore something that he has overheard by coincidence. 

Setting aside the frustration pushing at his ribcage, Laurence resolved to allow Granby to handle it. If it became necessary for Laurence to make an official announcement, he could do so later just as easily, though he felt the coward for not owning up to it now that it was out. He ordered them to make ready to depart instead, seeing that several smaller dragons were present to carry them. 

Some distance behind him and off to his left, Hammond was already arguing with a knot of Chinese officials, brief bursts of English among the Chinese giving hints as to the officials’ complaints. 

“Of course I will carry them,” Temeraire said with a derisive snort. “They are  _ my _ crew. And Laurence will certainly not ride on some other dragon.”

“Captain, they will not allow him to be put under harness again,” Hammond said, stepping up to Laurence’s side. 

Laurence did not like the idea of Temeraire flying alone in the unfamiliar territory, either from a standpoint of security or one of comfort. They would have a long flight ahead of them, and he did not like to think of Temeraire with no company at all. 

“For my part, I can latch onto the links of Temeraire’s neck collar,” Laurence said, which seemed such an obvious solution that he could only assume it had been overlooked deliberately. He resisted the urge to touch his own collar. “As long as the rest of the crew is kept in close company, I cannot see why this will not answer nicely.” 

Hammond brightened, but before presenting this option to the officials waiting patiently a polite distance away, he continued, “Captain, you must take every possible precaution not to be separated from either Temeraire or the rest of our party, particularly myself. This is vital.” His gaze darted down to the collar glowing brightly in the morning sunlight. “We have gained quite an advantage, but this may force Prince Yongxing to act more directly to remove you from Temeraire.”

Laurence looked at him in shock. After all of Hammond’s protests aboard, to hear him now caution Laurence to be wary of assassins was exasperating in the extreme. He felt his expression hardening, but only said curtly, “I understand, Mr. Hammond.”

Before Hammond had even spoken, the surrounding officials were already hurrying on in conciliatory tones, bowing repeatedly to Laurence with their hands clasped in front of them. Laurence realized that Hammond had almost certainly provoked his annoyance intentionally. He could have delivered his warning in private, or even quietly through Granby, but had instead chosen to do so in public. This had served to both constrain Laurence’s response and take advantage of his expression. 

“I do not appreciate being manipulated, Mr. Hammond,” Laurence warned softly as Hammond turned away. He saw the man’s ears pink, but otherwise, Hammond gave no indication of having heard.


	4. Chapter Three

Though taking less than a week, the journey from Dongguan to Peking had felt as tedious and energy-sapping as sitting on a ship becalmed for a month. Perhaps he should not have been surprised, but he was nonetheless when Li An Tien appeared on the second morning, apparently having caught up to them with his own dragon. She was a handsome Imperial named Lung Qin Xiaqing, who could have been Temeraire’s sister but for the lack of the ruff and tendrils. She was slightly smaller in length and weight both, but otherwise looked very much like. Temeraire had been shy at first, and then had grown quite friendly with her. This relationship had as obviously pleased Li An Tien as it had displeased Yongxing and his startlingly white dragon Lung Tien Lien. For Lien’s comfort, they had traveled most of the way at night, making Laurence a poor companion for Temeraire during the trip.

Hammond had been after Li An Tien at every available opportunity, from the moment their feet touched the ground in the morning until the omega official stepped into his dragon’s talon at dusk. Twice, Li An Tien’s attendants had to stop Hammond bodily from following the man directly onto his dragon.

As shameful as the behavior was, it did keep Li An Tien firmly away from Laurence, though he felt the other omega’s eyes on him frequently. Prince Yongxing was similarly content to stay on the opposite side of their camp

When they arrived in Peking, Laurence and Temeraire were directed to follow Yongxing and Lien through a magnificent archway. Li An Tien and Xiaqing came through behind them while the rest of their party was directed through two smaller archways on either side. On the other side of the gates, a crowd of silent onlookers waited, their curious gazes assessing. Having passed through first, Lien and Yongxing had turned to observe them, and even from a distance, Laurence could see the unhappy set of Yongxing’s shoulders, and perceive a similar displeasure in Lien’s posture. Laurence was unsure of the significance of the gates, but judging by Yongxing’s reaction, it had been an important display. Guessing this was yet another product of the collar, Laurence said nothing, but it was a struggle to resist ducking away from the dozens of eyes, dragonic and human alike, who lined the broad avenue beyond the archway. 

They were met some distance down by another Celestial, her coloring matching Temeraire’s, though there was a certain translucence to her hide that suggests she was much older. She examined them critically, and then spoke at great length. 

Trembling, Temeraire said in an awed voice, “Laurence, this is my mother.” 

~*~

They were ushered almost immediately into a banquet hall. Temeraire’s mother, Qian, sat at the head of a massive table with Temeraire at her left and Lien at her right. Laurence was seated directly in front of Temeraire, making Yongxing technically his right-hand dining companion. In reality, Qian sat between them, leaving a space of several yards entirely open and making conversation thankfully impractical. 

To his left, Li An Tien sat with Xiaqing behind him. Hammond had been seated further down the table, and kept staring at Laurence with an expression of pure anxiety to the point of ignoring his own dining companions. Laurence gave him a hard stare in return, attempting to point out his rudeness, but Hammond only took this as encouragement to mouth something indistinguishable at him.

Laurence turned away from him to mind his own meal. With Temeraire thoroughly absorbed in conversation with his mother, Laurence would not be able to communicate with any sort of grace with Li An Tien, and he had no intention of either breaking into Temeraire’s conversation or shouting down the table to Yongxing.

He had half a dozen small plates set out in front of him, the only of which he could readily identify being the bowl of rice and the somewhat murky soup set next to it, which he could not name, but was palatable enough. His place setting included only one of the flat-bottomed spoons and a pair of the lacquered eating sticks. He contemplated eating with the spoon alone, but he was concerned that it might be insulting. He looked down the table to see his crew struggling with the sticks themselves and stifled a sigh before picking his own up. 

After several minutes of fumbling to get them into position, he was startled when Li An Tien reached over to take his hand. 

“Allow me to assist,” he said in perfectly serviceable - indeed, hardly accented - English. 

Stunned and immediately offended, Laurence withdrew his hand and gave Li An Tien a cool look. “Your English is very good, sir.” 

“Ah,” Li An Tien said, apparently correctly interpreting his expression, “I am very shy with it. I learned from an English missionary, and have had no one on whom to practice for nearly a year. I have difficulty understanding native speakers, still.” He offered Laurence a smile that managed to be slightly apologetic. 

Realizing that Li An Tien had understood everything Hammond had said, and no doubt also neglected to translate, Laurence found his cheeks warming. He fought down the urge to apologize on Hammond’s behalf. Li An Tien could have made his understanding plain at any moment that first morning or during the several days’ travel and the numerous meals they had shared.

“It is important for people to be useful,” Li An Tien said softly, as though reading Laurence’s mind. 

Laurence pursed his lips, but made no acknowledgement. He doubted that Li An Tien had concealed his language skills only out of politeness for Hammond. Privately, Laurence did admit that Hammond had given the man plenty of reason to be wary of surrendering the buffer, and Li An Tien had no doubt benefited greatly from learning something of Hammond’s character and Laurence’s own. Considering how well he had hid himself for the entirety of his adult life, Laurence was not sure he could place any blame for the deceit, though he did make a private note not to assume that any of the Chinese could not understand him. 

“May I assist you?” Li An Tien asked after a brief moment of quiet while Laurence struggled with inner demons.

The idea of being instructed on eating in public was deeply humiliating, but Laurence realized this must be a kind of peace offering. He accepted with a short nod and did not pull away when Li An Tien again took his hand. The other man’s hands were soft and cool to the touch, nails meticulously cared for and fingers adorned with delicate golden rings. Next to them, Laurence’s own work-roughened, wind chapped, and scarred hands looked monstrous and ugly. Li An Tien helped Laurence to arrange the sticks against the base of his thumb and gave patient instruction on picking up larger items and scooping out clumps of rice. 

“Thank you,” Laurence offered, once he had managed to successfully get a thin piece of beef from his plate to his mouth without embarrassing himself. 

“I do regret that there are no more comfortable utensils at the table for our guests,” Li An Tien said casually.

Laurence made a polite demural, though, further down, his men were making a mess of themselves and the surrounding table with dropped bits of food. Roland and Dyer had picked up the trick of the sticks weeks ago and were attempting, largely unsuccessfully, to instruct the older officers in their use. In doing so, they were both leaning rudely around the Chinese guests sitting interspersed among them, and Laurence was flatly stunned to see one rifleman eating surreptitiously with his fingers.

Barely five minutes after Li An Tien had spoken, a servant appeared at Laurence’s elbow with a tray. Laurence found a golden fork set on a neatly folded white cloth. He looked over to see Yongxing very pointedly not looking at him and accepted the more familiar utensil. Down the table, he saw that these were also being offered to his crewmen, who took them with obvious relief. 

Laurence set his own aside and continued to struggle with the sticks. Li An Tien seemed faintly pleased with his decision and praised his progress, though, in truth, Laurence had continued with their use only out of petty stubbornness.

“Captain Lau-re-nse Tien,” Qian said partway through the meal, angling her great head to look at him more closely. “How do you like your meal?” 

Her English was heavily accented, and she spoke very slowly, but she was perfectly understandable. Laurence offered her a bow and expressed his compliments, though he was just then struggling mightily not to dive for the water after taking an experimental bite of a green vegetable doused in a dark red sauce and finding that it had instantly lit his tongue on fire. 

“Allow me to pour for you,” Li An Tien said, reaching over with a small ornate bottle and pouring a measure of rice wine into the thimble-sized cup at Laurence’s setting. 

Laurence took it up gratefully. “To your health, madam,” he offered Qian, and then had to wait as she picked up her own bowl - nearly large enough to serve as a bathtub for Laurence - and they drank together. 

The alcohol did not do much to deaden the heat from the pepper sauce, but Li An Tien gave the rice in Laurence’s bowl a very direct look, and Laurence was quick to take it up immediately afterward. The rice did offer some relief, but Laurence only managed a paltry mouthful with the blasted sticks before Qian had turned to him once more. 

“I understand that the Li clan has offered you a collar,” she said, leaning down over the table to eye him. 

Laurence obligingly turned so she could better see the jewelry, making him once more aware of it. He had grown accustomed enough to wearing it over the last week that he had nearly forgotten it. With her announcement, all eyes in the hall were fastened to him, including those of his own men. He was grateful that turning to display the piece had at least put his back to his countrymen, and none of them had to undergo the awkwardness of seeing his face in the moment. 

“It is well suited to you,” Qian said, and then inclined her head to Li An Tien, seated now behind Laurence so he could not see the other omega’s reaction. “The Li clan will surely be blessed for their generosity.” 

“Thank you for your kindness, great one,” Li An Tien said. “My clan is only too pleased to offer what meager comfort we might to the companion of Lung Tien Xiang.”

She seemed well pleased by this answer, though there was a clatter from her other side when Prince Yongxing set his cup down too hard, making his plates jump. He did not offer any explanation, but continued eating in simmering silence, and, at length, conversation continued in the hall. 

“I can be only grateful,” Qian said after a thoughtful moment, “that my Lung Tien Xiang’s egg found its way to your hands. Surely, this was the Will of Heaven that we might send his egg away to the only place where you could encounter it.” 

Laurence found it far more likely that it was the will of ill-circumstance on the part of the French, and good luck on his own, but he only bowed to her. At the last moment, Li An Tien’s hand set to his back, stopping his decline at only a few degrees. Laurence straightened and Li An Tien patted him once in approval before his hand fell away.

The rest of the meal passed quietly. Qian turned her attention back to Temeraire and Lien, Yongxing continued to eat in furious silence, and Laurence stubbornly refused to pick up his fork. Li An Tien talked of nothing of great consequence, and Hammond continued to stare at Laurence as though attempting to spontaneously develop a means to communicate directly between their minds. 

At length, the dinner plates were replaced with shaved ice sweetened with a tart plum syrup. The dragons were served massive platters of the sweet, and Temeraire exclaimed happily over it. Laurence felt his faint shivers transmitted through the polished wooden floor, and could not help but smile. He reached back to pet Temeraire’s talon.

Temeraire leaned down to nudge Laurence’s shoulder, unintentionally shoving him into Li An Tien, who laughed musically, caught Laurence about the chest and helped him back upright. 

“Do you suppose we might arrange for this treat back in England?” Temeraire asked. “Only, I am sure that Maximus and Lily and our other friends would find it delightful.”

“I am sure this could be arranged,” Laurence said, carefully not considering the likelihood that he would be in a position to arrange anything back in England. “I will see if I can obtain the method of preparation, though we may need to find some substitute for the plum. I do not know how well our native plums will answer. Perhaps raspberry.” 

“Oh yes, that would be lovely,” Temeraire agreed.

A moment later, the main doors opened and a troupe of dancers poured in to a loud clamor of music. Laurence turned to watch the performance. He could tell that there was some story, but the chaos of the banging instruments and the completely unfamiliar medium made it impossible to follow. 

The first group of dancers abandoned the floor, and a dragon constructed of black silk and blue flowers flowed into the room. It was cleverly rigged with dozens of dancers beneath the canopy, the great head bobbing animatedly, its mouth and eyes even opening and closing as it danced. 

“How clever,” Temeraire said in obvious pleasure.

Next to him, Qian clicked her talons against the floor, making a loud clacking noise that clearly indicated applause. After a moment, Temeraire followed suit, filling the hall with an additional clamour as a counterpoint to the banging of the drums and cymbals. Another dancer spilled out, long flowing robes spinning around her feet as she made acrobatic leaps around the floor. 

“This is the story of the first omega,” Li An Tien said very softly, leaning sideways to keep his comments private. “Emperor Qin Shi Huang has seen the beautiful Ti Bao Chin for the first time. She was an alpha, and fighting a great war. He falls immediately in love with her.”

On the floor, the dragon and the girl twisted across the stage in a slow game of chase, until he spun around her in a loose spiral. 

“He loved her so dearly that he could not bear to be parted from her, and his love was so strong that he became human himself.”

The dragon exploded in a great flurry of silk, blue flowers flying outward to leave a single actor in fine robes while the rest of the dancers ran off the floor with the silk flowing behind them. It was a fantastic reveal, and as long as Laurence ignored the offending clatter of cymbals, a masterful piece of theater. 

The dancer spun away in a flurry of jabs and kicks, leaping into the air as though she were pulled by strings, fighting half a dozen figures dressed all in black. She collapsed on the floor after one particularly energetic series of flips and twirls, and a black length of silk was drawn over her. When it was yanked away, she was gone.

“Unfortunately, General Ti Bao Chin perished in the war to unite China,” Li An Tien summarized sadly as Emperor Qin Shi Huang flung his head back and screamed, a great roar of noise in the suddenly silent hall. He dropped to his knees, the thunk of his weight hitting the wood sharp and poignant. 

After a moment, he stood up slowly. The music swelled again, and a dozen actors tumbled out to kneel at his feet. He stood triumphant and alone in the circle of their bowed heads. 

“He never had an Empress, but fathered nine omegas and seven alphas who went on to lead the empire.” 

“How kind of our hosts to put on such an informative production,” Laurence said, clapping politely, though he wasn’t sure if Li An Tien had heard him over Temeraire’s enthusiastic clicking. He was very sure there was a message being delivered, but not entirely sure that the message had been aimed at him. 

He looked over to Yongxing to see the prince’s place conspicuously empty, and Laurence only caught sight of the tip of Lien’s tail as she apparently followed her companion out of the hall. 

“Very kind,” Li An Tien repeated thoughtfully into the lull. 

~*~

As the bowls for the shaved ice were replaced by small plates of fresh fruit, Laurence was presented with a scroll on a set of ornate wooden sticks. He found the method of preparing the shaved ice inscribed neatly inside along with a quickly done, though still skillful, colored illustration of a plum in the center. Laurence accepted with his thanks for the chef and artist both, and expressed his pleasure over the meal. He made a private note to be careful of expressing interest in anything so casually again, as this apparently amounted to a demand. 

The artist apologized profusely for his "poor work" but beamed with obvious pride as he backed away, leaving Laurence bemused and somewhat agitated. Temeraire immediately asked to see the scroll held up so that he might admire it as well, and added his own compliments, which seemed fair to send the artist into an apoplexy of pleasure. 

After the meal, Li An Tien made a gesture with one hand for Laurence to follow him. “I regret that we did not have the opportunity to speak much while traveling under the prince’s banner,” he said as they walked from the banquet hall to the courtyard. 

“I regret it as well, sir. You seem an able conversationalist,” Laurence said mildly. Beside him, Li An Tien put one fist to his lips to cover a delicate cough, but he did not seem offended. Laurence recognized only belatedly that it had been a somewhat petty comment, but he was not inclined to retract it. He could hear Temeraire talking with his mother and slowed his steps so Temeraire wouldn’t feel rushed in saying his goodbyes. 

“If you will allow me to redeem myself, our family has prepared a guest house at our Peking estate for your party’s use while we are in the city. If there is anything needed for either your comfort or theirs, please do not hesitate to tell me.” 

“Thank you for the generous offer,” Laurence said. He considered declining immediately, but he hardly knew where else they were supposed to go, and he suspected that the offer had been only a polite fiction of choice. “I accept, of course.” 

As the rest of their party poured out of the banquet hall, Hammond tried to get Laurence’s attention without shouting, but Laurence ignored the unsubtle attempts to wave him down. Li An Tien stepped neatly between them, blocking Hammond’s increasingly furious hand gestures. Laurence was well aware that he was being further manipulated to a purpose beyond his understanding, but he was frustrated enough with Hammond’s particular machinations to allow it for the time being. He also could not deny that walking boldly next to another omega who was known for what he was and not afraid was soothing in a very real way.

Laurence and Temeraire followed Li An Tien and Xiaqing to a large estate on an island in sight of the city. The crew were all aboard Xiaqing in silken carrying harnesses, their baggage following behind with two lightweight dragons. 

As soon as they landed, a dozen servants seemed to all but materialize from the darkness and rushed forward to claim the baggage and assist the crew down from the harnesses. 

Laurence patted Temeraire’s arm and stroked his face when he leaned down in response. “Are you comfortable, my dear?”

“Oh, yes, Laurence. It was a very nice dinner, and this courtyard is so pleasantly warm.” Indeed, he had already stretched out his full length, and barely lifted his head when Xiaqing settled down against his side and stretched her neck to lay across his shoulders. 

Li An Tien waited for him some little distance off, one hand held out slightly in invitation. “This is the Peking estate of our clan,” he explained. He made a gesture to the well-lit courtyard, encompassing several outbuildings, an orchard of flowering trees, and a river meandering through the whole with three bridges spanning the lotus-choked water in different directions.

“Accommodations have been prepared for your men in the guest house,” he said once Laurence had joined him. “Servants will be nearby throughout the night, and they need only call out if they require anything further.” He pointed off to a large building to the right, lit warmly from within. 

Realizing at once that Li An Tien meant for him to stay elsewhere, Laurence said, “I would prefer to remain with my men.” Li An Tien did not immediately respond, but continued toward the interior gates while the rest of the crew was directed off to a building to the right.

“Your commitment to your men is commendable,” Li An Tien said finally, but did not break stride. “Respects must be paid.” 

Laurence cast a glance backward and made eye contact with Granby. The rest of the aviators were following their baggage, talking and laughing easily, but Granby gave him a nod and Laurence knew that there would be a watch posted without him having to say anything more. He was inclined to trust Li An Tien, but he could not fully rely on his own instincts on the matter, as clouded as they were by the novelty of being in like company. 

As they approached, a set of doors that could have admitted Temeraire were swung open just enough to allow them into a second courtyard. He was surprised to find the courtyard full of people in various states of repose, draped over couches and platforms in twos and threes and the occasional larger group. More than their presence, the surprise was in their positions, most of them draped over each other or otherwise touching with lazy familiarity. Each of them wore a collar of various levels of jeweled finery.

Laurence stopped as the doors behind them closed. “They are all omega,” he breathed before he could restrain the words. 

Li An Tien stopped to look back at him with a sad smile. “You are among your own here.”

Coloring, Laurence quickly faced forward. He cleared his throat and waited for Li An Tien to start walking again. There was a pause as Li An Tien obviously considered speaking, but then thought better of it. With a nod, he started walking again, leading them past perhaps two dozen pairs of curious eyes who did not feel the need to move away from each other in response to the intrusion of a stranger. 

Laurence realized that the collar swinging musically over his chest made him very much neither an intruder nor a stranger. He resisted reaching up to touch it and did his best to keep his chest and shoulders steady to minimize the movement of the chains. 

They mounted a set of stairs leading to a central building. A few more pairs of omegas were sprawled over couches on the wide deck, and they were no more concerned by Laurence’s presence than the others had been. Li An Tien did not pause, but led him directly into the building. A well furnished foyer opened into a wide hall. At the far end, a single imposing figure sat cross-legged behind a table on a low dais. He glanced up as they approached, but did not pause in his reading. 

Li An Tien came to a stop some distance away from the gentleman, kneeling down and immediately, though briefly, pressing his forehead to the floor. Laurence remained standing, stiff with irritation at being so ambushed. He had not even resigned himself to making such bows to the emperor. It seemed a little much to expect him to kneel for a stranger. 

The man behind the table noticed after a long moment and finally looked up. At Laurence’s feet, Li An Tien was sitting stiffly upright. He reached out to grab Laurence by the ankle, tugging subtly while the apparent lord of the house stared at him in mounting indignation. 

Li An Tien said something after a long moment of silence, and the lord straightened up, giving Laurence a hard look that traveled from his face to the collar on his neck, and then focused in the middle distance. 

“Laurence, please. Merely sit.” 

Laurence hesitated a moment longer, on the verge of reminding Li An Tien that he had told Laurence he would need never bow his head to anyone other than the emperor again, but finally lowered himself to his knees. He did not put his forehead on the floor as he had been instructed by Hammond, but he did let his eyes rest on the lord’s desk rather than his face. After another moment of silence, the man spoke and Li An Tien responded. 

A few more exchanges passed between them, and then Li An Tien turned on his knees so he was facing across the room, taking on the role of translator. 

“This is Lord Li Chia-Hao, the patriarch of our clan. He greets you.” 

“Thank you for your hospitality, my lord,” Laurence responded, looking up to gauge the man’s expression and finding it forbidding. He let his eyes drift away and said nothing more. 

The next comment was obviously directed at Li An Tien, who turned his head briefly to acknowledge it, bowing his head in Chia-Hao’s direction, eyes closed. He made a short response, listened to the next speech, and then turned to face the front of the room again and bowed to press his forehead to the floor, his collar jingling against the wooden planks. 

“The lord wishes you to know that he has placed your care and education in my hands,” Li An Tien said. “And welcomes you to our clan. He hopes that you will find peace and comfort in our halls.” 

Laurence pursed his lips, unable to stop himself from reaching up to touch the collar. The damage, he knew, had been done a week ago when he had not protested being collared in the first place. If he had been claimed by these men, it was a situation of his own making, and one that had materially improved his hopes of keeping Temeraire. 

Forcing his shoulders to relax, he bowed over his knees, hands stretching out on the polished wood to frame his forehead. 

“Express my gratitude,” he said wearily, rising.

Li An Tien did, and then pushed himself backwards to his feet. He grabbed Laurence’s shoulder on the way back, and Laurence was only too pleased to rise as well. He followed Li An Tien’s lead to back away several steps before turning around. 

“I understand that must have been difficult for you,” Li An Tien said quietly once they were back in the foyer. 

“No more difficult than other things I have done,” Laurence said stiffly, though it had been one of the more difficult that he could easily remember, ranking perhaps only below being collared and those miserable months of waiting for his cycle with Captain Barstowe breathing over his shoulder. 

Li An Tien did not immediately respond, but led him back through the courtyard to the double doors. The two guards looked surprised to see them approach, but opened the doors immediately. Li An Tien escorted him to the door of the guest house where two more guards opened the doors for him.

“Good night, sir,” Laurence offered briefly. 

Li An Tien gave him that now familiar, but no less infuriating, sad smile and said, “Pleasant dreams, Captain.” 


	5. Chapter Four

Laurence was still undressed, hair loose and wild about his face and blinking sleep out of eyes when Hammond dropped to his knees beside the bed and declared, “Captain, I must have a word with you!”

“Mr. Hammond,” Laurence said with sharp irritation, noticing that the man was only slightly better dressed than he was himself, and must have been watching him sleep to be so close at the first signs of stirring. “You may have your word when I am dressed.” 

“Captain Laurence-!”

“Enough, Hammond!” His own rudeness was almost sufficient to shock him into silence, but he was fast approaching the fraying end of his rope with being pulled about by the neck. “Leave. I will make myself presentable for civilised conversation, and you will do the same for your tongue.” 

Hammond gaped at him. For a man so horrendously unaware of basic courtesy, he had obviously come to rely a great deal on Laurence’s own sense of propriety. Laurence sat up, dislodging the blankets and leaving himself exposed to the waist. Hammond finally,  _ finally _ , blushed and scrambled backwards. Laurence did not pause in rising, and the man’s steps hurried still faster as he pushed the blankets away altogether. 

Laurence stood, naked as the day he was born, and wondered at himself that he was willing to make his skin into a weapon when only two weeks before, waking to find himself bare and vulnerable, alone in a room with another man would have made him go tight with nerves. The dawn sun streamed into his room and he felt a sudden, manic urge to walk directly out into the courtyard with every inch of himself on display. 

Sense returned, and he set aside the moment’s insanity to shave, wash, and dress. He paused over the collar, discarded none too gently on the polished dressing table the night before. He let his fingers drift over it, tracing the pattern of lotus flowers woven into the chains around the high collar, the milky beads cascading down the chain net. He could commission and outfit a dragon transport from the sale of it and leave the whole world to rot in his and Temeraire’s wake. 

Another piece of madness. He lifted the ends of the chain and fastened it about his neck. Over the last week, he had become proficient at collaring himself, fingernail finding the clasp and prying it open just long enough to slip the opposite link into its teeth. It snapped shut with a tiny  _ tink _ and the weight of the collar settled on his chest once more. He adjusted his neckcloth underneath it. He had learned the trick of tucking it smoothly beneath the collar by forgoing the usual knot and using the collar itself to hold the cloth closed. 

He took in his own reflection, resplendent in gold and jade and completely foreign to him.

Hammond was waiting outside his door as he stepped out, still buttoning his jacket. The diplomat had at least taken the time to tie up his neckcloth and button his surcoat. 

“I see that you are now clothed,” Hammond said cooly, as though he had not been the one to rouse Laurence out of bed at the first blush of sunrise. 

“As you say, Mr. Hammond,” Laurence agreed, passing the diplomat into the hallway to the main room of the guest house. He could hear doors opening up and down the corridor, men long used to military hours stirring for breakfast, and, indeed, Laurence could smell what could certainly not be bacon wafting from the main room. 

“Captain Laurence, I insist on speaking with you immediately!” Hammond declared in desperation, hurrying to catch up with him. 

“Step outside with me, Mr. Hammond. The air will do you good,” Laurence invited, bypassing the table laid out with food, surprised and pleased to see something that looked a good deal like an English breakfast, if one discounted the rice and soup set alongside the fried eggs and toast.

Hammond followed him out onto the porch. The guest house boasted a private garden, and the deck overlooked an asymmetrical pond filled with the long stalks of lotus plants, an ancient tree that shaded much of the garden, and attractively arranged boulders covered in moss. 

Laurence took a steadying breath. “How may I be of service, Mr. Hammond?” He asked once the door had been closed behind them. 

“You may be of service by allowing me to do my job, Captain!” Hammond fairly erupted. “You have at every moment resisted my attempts to be present during talks and to further our mission here. I must wonder if you desire to keep your precious dragon at all!”

“You go too far!” Laurence warned, rounding on him. His hand fell to the hilt of his sword quite without meaning to. “You will withdraw that remark, sir.” 

“Omegas are not permitted to duel,” Hammond said unkindly. 

Laurence’s eyes narrowed. “Neither are captains of the aerial corps, and yet, I am more than willing to call you to account, sir, more than willing.” 

Hammond sucked in a breath, and then expelled a small explosion of frustration. “No, you are quite right. I was far out of line. You have my sincere apologies, Captain, and I withdraw the remark.”

Surprised by a pang of disappointment, Laurence dropped his hand from the blade. He nodded shortly, but could not relax the muscles of his jaw or calm the tension in his limbs. “Li An Tien’s command of English is quite excellent.” 

Hammond winced. “I thought that must be the case, unless you have previously untapped skills with language of which I am unaware. I regret that very much, Captain, but blocking me from forming a relationship with our hosts only harms our cause, surely you must see that.” 

“I assure you, sir, I have done nothing of the sort. The advantage on which you have been so keen has put me in a position of precious little control. ‘Placed under their protection,’ was not exactly accurate. I seem to have been absorbed into the household. Li An Tien has been established as my handler, and you have given him few reasons to trust your integrity.” 

“Captain!” 

Laurence stared at him, daring him to protest further. Hammond looked away. 

“I will suggest that you, as His Majesty’s representative, be included in further talks as they pertain to matters of State, but that is all I can do. I do advise that you no longer assume any person around you cannot understand every word out of your mouth.” It was advice he was stunned to need to deliver to a diplomat, but he bit that observation back with some difficulty. 

“De Guine is in the capital,” Hammond said after a long moment of silence. “I was seated next to him at table. Intelligence I would have delivered last night if - Well, that is neither here nor there. We still do not know what agreements have been made between the Chinese and the French that would result in them sending such a precious treasure, indeed, such a  _ weapon _ to Napoleon. And now, to find De Guine here, already comfortably ensconced… I hope I do not need to spell out the troubles this presents."

Nodding, Laurence said, “That information I may be able to discover for the asking.” 

“You must be delicate in how you ask,” Hammond stressed. “I would… no, you are correct. I have lost all credibility with Li An Tien and must find a way to repair that damage. Merely take care that you do not cause offense. Do not suggest that there is any culpability, or criticize their decision; indeed it would be better to praise it. But subtly. We cannot seem to approve of any alliance with the French.” 

“Thank you for that inestimable advice,” Laurence said. “I suppose I will muddle through somehow.” 

Hammond huffed out an annoyed breath, but did not take issue with either Laurence’s tone or his words. He returned to their breakfast, leaving the door open behind him in invitation. Laurence remained a moment in the early morning sun, enjoying the breeze on his face and the silence of the garden. 

From inside, a surprised shout of, “Bacon!” interrupted the bird chatter and was followed by a cheer. Laurence smiled and returned to his crew. 

~*~

Li An Tien walked at Laurence’s side down the broad avenue of the Peking market. Temeraire walked on his other side, his head swiveling so frequently that it seemed likely to come off. Laurence watched him with an indulgent smile, and was gratified to see that both Li An Tien and Lung Qing Xiaqing viewed Temeraire’s excitement with the same pleasure. The Imperial dragon kept pace with Temeraire, and the main avenue easily accommodated them walking side-by-side with room to spare for human traffic. 

Celestials and omegas both must have been more regular sights in the capital, as they did not gather the same mob they had pulled on their previous visits to smaller towns, though people and dragons alike stepped aside and bowed until they had passed. 

“The attention makes you uncomfortable,” Li An Tien observed. He didn’t turn to look at Laurence directly, but his eyes shifted to the side. 

“It is not attention to which I am accustomed,” Laurence admitted. He sped his steps subtly so they drew even with Temeraire once more, strangely reluctant to be drawn into private conversation. Temeraire had already painted the grim picture of life as an omega for Li An Tien - a subject on which Hammond had complained at seemingly inexhaustible lengths - but Laurence had no intention of discussing it further if he could avoid it. 

Li An Tien did not try to resurrect the conversation, but did stretch his stride so they were once more abreast. Laurence floundered in the silence. He had always had to walk such a very fine line between being charming enough to be well-liked and quiet enough to avoid too much notice from his superiors. He could have progressed further in his career if he hadn’t needed to worry about stepping into a room and finding himself face-to-face with an alpha admiral. Nonetheless, he enjoyed conversation, and he had never had to struggle quite so hard to find a polite topic of discussion. 

“Mr. Hammond tells me that the French ambassador, a Mr. De Guine, is also in the capital,” Laurence said finally, gracelessly. 

Li An Tien quirked an eyebrow. “I have been away from the court for some time, but I understand that he arrived shortly before you did yourself. Would you like an introduction?” He asked curiously. 

“I believe he and Mr. Hammond are acquainted,” Laurence said. “At some point, he may arrange a meeting with the French embassy.” 

“That could be managed,” Li An Tien said. “Special permission would need to be obtained. I understand that they have been installed at an estate east of the city, and do not currently have license to move freely beyond the walls of the estate.” 

He made the statement quite casually, unaware at how the intelligence had shocked Laurence directly to the bone. Without conscious thought, his eyes drifted around the bustling avenue. 

“There are no such restrictions on your movements,” Li An Tien said, following his gaze. “Though, of course, it would not be proper for you to leave our home without an escort.” 

“I see,” Laurence said, somewhat flatly. His movements may have not been technically restricted, but he suspected that he and his party were no more free to explore the city than the French. In a strange way, it was comforting.

Temeraire had found a stall he liked and was crouched down in the road to stare inside. Laurence hurried around him to see what had caught his eye and to forestall any panic from the merchant, but he found a chubby infant inside, eagerly reaching for Temeraire’s nose and held up by a beaming young woman who might have been the child’s sister. As Laurence appeared between Temeraire’s forelegs, she was mid shout, head turned to look over her shoulder. 

An older man ducked under the flap in the back of the tent, and then made a loud exclamation and dropped immediately to his knees. The girl whipped her head back around, saw Laurence, and gathered the baby into her chest. While the infant squalled in displeasure, she lowered herself to her knees on the carpet. 

“Please do not-!” Laurence tried, dismayed. “Temeraire, pray tell them to rise.” 

Temeraire did, but by the time they had done so, hesitantly, Li An Tien had come around Temeraire’s other side to investigate. The merchants ducked back down quickly. 

Li An Tien’s eyes swept over the scene, and then he spoke a few gentle words. 

While the merchants were climbing back to their feet, Li An Tien angled his gaze up to Temeraire and asked, “What has caught your eye, Lung Tien Xiang?”

“I was merely admiring the craftsmanship,” Temeraire said, sounding a touch guilty. He gave some compliment to the merchant that had the older man exclaiming aloud. He went back to his knees yet again, speaking earnestly as he swayed, not quite genuflecting but looking as though he very much wanted to.

“Oh, well… no, I don’t suppose that is right,” Temeraire said with a wistful look at Laurence. “He says that we may choose whatever we like to take, but I don’t imagine that is something we may do?” 

“Certainly not,” Laurence agreed, horrified at the thought. The table held dozens of finely worked pieces of jewelry and lacquered boxes with elaborate inlaid patterns in mother of pearl. Any piece on the table would look at home in a duchess’ jewelry box. “My dear, if you see something you like well enough, we may certainly purchase it for its fair value,” he said, though he was not sure the gold on him would cover any of the pieces. 

Temeraire let out a sigh. “They are all very lovely, but I do suppose they are too small for me,” he said, and then focused on Laurence. “I don’t suppose you might like one of them?” 

“I thank you, Temeraire, but no. I think I am already decked in enough gold for anyone. Pray express my admiration for the craftsmanship, and my best wishes for the child.” 

Before Temeraire could speak, Li An Tien broke in smoothly. Temeraire followed the conversation with worrying intensity, and the merchants continued to bow every few words. Finally, the man leapt to his feet and disappeared behind the curtain. All through this, the child continued to scream at such volume that Laurence was stunned either party could be heard over him. He considered picking the child up in an effort to calm the cries, but was concerned that doing so might result in the child being instantly declared his to keep. 

The man came back with a polished box, which he set down in front of Li An Tien, and then backed away hastily, bobbing his head several times. Li An Tien nodded gravely, selected a piece from the table to set in the box, and then withdrew a long red cord strung with silver coins from beneath a fold of his robe and set it on the table in place of the box. The cord had elaborate knots and a jade pendant at the bottom. 

“That is a very fine choice,” Temeraire said as they walked away from the stall. The young girl had started sobbing at some point fit to rival the infant in volume, and the man was cradling the cord of coins like it was a precious treasure, though Laurence was unsure that the coins equalled the cuff’s value. He attempted to restrain his disapproval, well aware that he had no means of comparing the value of the coins to currency with which he was more familiar, but it must have been clear on his face. 

“The merchant will take the tail of silver to the Li estate, and there present himself for a commission,” Li An Tien said casually. “Having created a collar for the Li clan, he will receive many more commissions from important families.” He held the box out for Laurence. 

“Thank you, but I must decline,” Laurence said stiffly. 

Li An Tien said gently, “The gift is for Lung Tien Xiang. It gives him pleasure to see you dressed to your station. What good does it do either of you to resist?” 

“I am not a doll to be trussed up to anyone’s pleasure,” Laurence said lowly. 

Li An Tien blinked at him, obviously startled. Next to them, Temeraire had stopped as well, drooping in obvious disappointment and shame. Laurence reached out to touch Temeraire’s arm, thoughtlessly comforting, though he was not inclined to take his words back. 

Watching his face long enough to be considered rude, Li An Tien inclined his head in a nod. “I understand,” he said simply, tucking the box into one of his voluminous sleeves. 

Temeraire watched the box disappear, but he made no attempt to argue, and they started moving again. The avenue opened up into a crowded square. People moved out of their way, but many others continued their business on the outskirts without so much as a glance in their direction. Laurence had never been especially easy in crowds, but seeing people in the distance who didn’t notice him at all was surprisingly comforting. He felt the knot of anxiety between his shoulder blades relaxing and managed to take what felt like his first full breath since the day the Chinese embassy had arrived in England.

At first, he didn’t register pain when his breath abruptly caught. Somewhere off to his left, he heard a scream. Above him, a furious roar, echoed further ahead of them. Li An Tien appeared at his side, wrapping an arm around Laurence’s waist and catching at the back of his neck with the other hand. Stunned to be so manhandled, Laurence tried to shove him away, but then, finally, noticed the fire blossoming out of his chest as he stumbled in Li An Tien’s arms. 

Laurence looked past the blinding glow of the collar to see blood pouring down his chest. Laurence reached up, confused, searching for the source of the blood. He encountered the hilt of a knife, certainly not where it was supposed to be. 

“That is inconvenient,” Laurence said. He blinked up to see a wall of bodies surrounding them. “Temeraire? Where is Temeraire?” 

“Lung Tien Xiang has apprehended the assassin. You must tell him not to kill the man,” Li An Tien said urgently. 

“What? Temeraire! Temeraire, do not!” He tried to shout, but couldn’t quite get in the breath. Li An Tien helped him upright, the motion drawing a yell out Laurence despite his best efforts to suppress it. 

“Laurence!” Temeraire shouted. Laurence finally saw him a short distance away, one talon curled around a struggling body. Temeraire had a particularly feral look about him, teeth bared, ruff raised and quivering, tail lashing dangerously left-and-right. 

“Temeraire, I am well,” Laurence called. He pressed a hand to the base of the knife, finally managing to take a breath around the pain, and put as much command into his voice as he could to shout, “Temeraire, do not harm that man!” 

“He has hurt you!” Temeraire protested viciously. In his talon, the captured man screamed as Temeraire apparently squeezed him. 

Lung Qing Xiaqing eased up to Temeraire, bumping her nose under his jaw and speaking too softly for Laurence to hear over the rushing in his ears. He leaned heavily on Li An Tien, who bore up under his weight without a murmur of protest, and spared enough attention to look at the people around them. It seemed that the entire population of the square had arranged themselves around him and Li An Tien in a protective wall. Laurence was very conscious that these complete strangers had imperiled their own lives to his protection, and were perhaps still in danger as a result. 

“Temeraire,” he tried, though his voice was fading, “Temeraire, please, let us away before anyone else is put in danger. There may be more.” 

Temeraire tipped his head back and unleashed the great shattering roar of the Divine Wind directly upward, making even the defenders around Laurence and Li An Tien duck in fear. With a last snarl, Temeraire hurled the screaming would-be-assassin at Lung Qing Xiaqing and turned. He reached into the crowd and plucked Laurence and Li An Tien up gently. Li An Tien did his best to brace Laurence for the motion, but he was still jostled painfully. He stifled the sound of his discomfort, well aware of the lengths Temeraire might go if he felt that Laurence was in danger. 

Li An Tien curled around him, tucking Laurence’s injured side to his chest to keep it stable, and then slipping an arm behind Laurence’s neck and draping one leg over his hips. Temeraire brought them in close to his chest, drawing them into a dark, secure cocoon.

“There is… it is a lot of blood,” Li An Tien said numbly. He slipped back into Chinese for a moment, and then swallowed and said, “Laurence. Please.” 

“It is fine,” Laurence said, gritting his teeth. “The wound is not bad. I was only taken by surprise.” He brought a hand up to pat comfortingly at Li An Tien’s forearm, and then thoughtlessly apologized for getting blood on his fine pale blue robes, a bit of ridiculousness that startled a laugh out of Li An Tien. 

The sound brought an answering laugh to Laurence’s lips. He stifled it quickly as the motion jarred the knife and a fresh wash of pain sliced through him. Li An Tien shifted his position so that he was all but laying entirely on top of Laurence, one hand holding the knife steady and opposite arm under Laurence’s body, keeping him almost entirely immobile. Despite his lithe stature, Li An Tien was surprisingly strong, and Laurence blinked up at him in the semi-darkness. His mind was foggy with more than just pain, and he couldn’t muster up the energy for further speech. 

Temeraire was already bellowing for Keynes by the time they landed. Laurence hissed at the jerk of Temeraire’s weight settling to ground, and then sunlight once again invaded their safe bubble. Hands appeared everywhere, and there was a great confusion of voices in English and Chinese. Li An Tien was pulled away, and then Keynes was kneeling in Temeraire’s talon with Laurence, prodding carefully at the wound. 

Keynes snorted. “This great mess of chains has caught the blade, and it has only gone in part way. I would guess that it has fetched up against a rib. My apologies, Captain, but the coat will be a loss.” 

Even as he said this, he pulled out a sharp blade and sliced into the fabric. Laurence protested belatedly, but Keynes just clucked his tongue, pulling the ruined pieces of the coat out of the way. The waistcoat and shirt received the same rough treatment, and then Laurence saw the offending knife passing through his field of vision. He had not felt it come out any more than he had felt it go in. Temeraire leaned over him throughout this operation, making an odd rumbling, keening noise.

“Vicious piece of work,” Kayne said, pressing a bandage pad over the wound. He reached up and shoved at Temeraire’s jaw with a bloody hand. “You are blocking my light, you great infant! Your captain is just fine! Now back up and let me work!” 

Laurence craned his neck up in an effort to see the crew. Some distance away, Li An Tien stood in a cluster of other omegas. He had his hands held out away from his body, expression shocked in a way Laurence recognized: a man seeing action, seeing bloody violence for the first time. On the opposite side of the courtyard, Laurence could just see the back of Granby’s head, but he couldn’t quite make out the orders his first lieutenant was obviously issuing. 

“Mr. Gran-”

For his efforts, he got one of Kayne’s strong hands to his forehead, pushing his head back down. “They will manage for a few minutes without your meddling, Captain, thank you.”

Laurence let his head fall back to the warm pad of Temeraire’s talon, clenching his teeth against the burning pain as Keynes prodded at the wound in search of any fabric or chain that might have gotten into it. After only a moment of this, he yanked hard on the collar, snapping one of the fragile links and thrusting it roughly out of his way. Laurence was surprised to feel a second of protest at its removal, but then the loud outrage of the watching omegas drowned out any noise he might have made in response to it. 

“If you’re going to make such a fuss about me touching it, you hold it,” Keynes said, unrepentant and unconcerned as he tossed the collar at the first omega to storm angrily up to complain. The woman caught it hastily in both hands, mouth falling open in shock. Laurence winced at the splatters of blood flicked onto her face and robes and apologized thoughtlessly. She was so stunned that she only held the collar in both hands and stared at him, lips moving soundlessly. 

“Alcohol, if you please!” Keynes called. 

Thus forewarned, Laurence was able to steel himself against the scream that formed in his chest as the provided spirit was poured directly onto the wound. He clenched his teeth and fisted the opposite hand in his pant leg to keep himself from shoving Keynes away. 

“Thank you for not making a great scene of hollering. I would say that you are a good patient,” Keynes said conversationally, now pulling a needle through Laurence’s flesh, “but I know the moment I let you up, you will be off on some nonsense crusade. I would force feed you laudanum if I thought you wouldn’t outstubborn even that to embark on getting yourself killed.” 

“Your opinion of me is too kind,” Laurence said through his teeth. 

“I assure you, my opinion of you is no less than you deserve.” He tied the thread off with a tug, and then leaned down to sever it with his teeth. “I suppose that if I order you not to use this hand, you will immediately find some pressing need for it?” 

Laurence made some effort at indignation, but Keynes had not waited for his response. He was already cleaning the spilled blood off of Laurence’s chest with businesslike strokes of a wet cloth while he called for bandages. 

“Will he be alright?” Temeraire asked anxiously, obviously having waited the full length of his patience for an update. Laurence looked up to see him with his head cocked strangely, trying to keep Laurence in sight while also staying out of Kayne’s light. 

“Only a scratch, barely worth the stitches,” Keynes said brusquely, though the tightness in his expression and his very speed at applying those stitches made him a liar. 

Laurence was not about to contradict him, however, and closed his eyes against the whole body ache coming upon him now that the flush of adrenalin had faded. He shivered faintly, which only resulted in being stripped to the waist and encouraged to sit upright so that Keynes could wrap him bandages, using this method to so thoroughly bind Laurence’s left arm to his chest that he couldn’t have used it if he’d wanted to. 

A blanket was offered as soon as the bandages were tied off, and Laurence huddled into it gratefully. He felt his eyelids growing heavy, but was startled back into wakefulness by the roar of an approaching dragon. Temeraire reflexively closed his talon around Laurence and Keynes, unintentionally jostling them together in the process and getting a loud exclamation from Keynes, who slapped irritably at Temeraire’s claw. 

Temeraire hastily opened his talon again, but leaned down low over them, snarling in his throat as the other dragon landed. 

Laurence peered over Keynes shoulder to see an aged Imperial landing in the courtyard, Xiaqing hastily making room for her. Lord Li Chia-Hao slid down the dragon’s arm to land on the stones, his face full of thunderclouds. Behind him, a dozen others quickly scrambled down the dragon’s sides. There was a brief explosion of chaos as the aviators arranged themselves in between Laurence and the newcomer and the omegas all jostled to get into some order, bowing low to the Li patriarch as he stormed across the courtyard. Li An Tien alone strode out to meet him, and he stopped halfway to make a bow, speaking rapidly in Chinese. 

Hammond appeared in the wake of this chaos to hurry to Li An Tien’s side, presenting himself to the lord of the Li clan in the process as Li An Tien evidently gave a report of the situation. Li Chia-Hao’s face went near purple with rage as he listened, and Laurence insistently pushed away from Kayne’s restraint to slide out of Temeraire’s talon. 

“Laurence!” Temeraire declared, dismayed, as he felt Laurence’s weight leave his grasp. 

“I am perfectly well, Temeraire,” Laurence said, though he had to catch himself on Temeraire’s claw at a wave of dizziness. He sucked in a breath, forced back the gathering darkness,and ignored Kayne’s annoyed protests. He pushed himself away from the support to present himself to the furious lord. 

Li Chia-Hao’s eyes flashed to him with such ferocity that Laurence stumbled, taken aback by the very real outrage on his face. Granby rushed forward to catch Laurence and supported him the remaining few yards to Li An Tien’s right side. Li An Tien and Li Chia-Hao both stared at Granby’s hand on him, but Laurence didn’t see how they could possibly protest to Granby keeping him upright. 

“Thank you, Mr. Granby,” he said nonetheless, just to make it clear that his first lieutenant had permission to touch him.

Laurence made the lord a lopsided bow, though with being so off balance, it was really more of a sliding lean that was recovered from being a fall only by Granby’s steady grip on his arm. 

“My lord,” Laurence offered, “I apologize for any damage my presence here has caused.” 

Li An Tien stared at him in slack shock for a second before a bark of command from Li Chia-Hao had him hastily translating. Li Chia-Hao’s redoubled anger needed no translation and Laurence found himself struggling to straighten under the force of it. He was aware that being the certain target of an assassination attempt had put Li An Tien’s life at risk, but he had hardly invited the attention. Despite his very apparent fury, the lord’s words were carefully measured and precise as he stared hard at Laurence’s face. 

“You are of the Li clan, and you have been attacked in such a cowardly, blatant way while in the presence of my own son and a Celestial dragon beside,” Li An Tien translated directly. “The outrage is beyond comprehension, and the insult to you and our clan must be addressed.” 

Startled, Laurence could only blink at Li Chia-Hao for several moments, and then at Li An Tien. That this imposing figure would be so offended on his behalf instead of angry at the danger Laurence’s presence had brought down on them was somehow absurd. 

All that managed to escape through the haze of pain and creeping exhaustion was, “He is your father?” 

Nonplussed, Li An Tien answered, “I am the third son of the Li patriarch.” 

Perhaps seeing that Laurence’s capacity for civilized conversation had quite failed him, Hammond stepped into the breach, speaking smoothly and politely in Chinese. Li Chia-Hao looked at him in surprise, prompting Li An Tien to make introductions. The lord listened to these with barely concealed impatience, and then made a gesture with one hand to stall the flow of whatever Hammond had interjected at the end of Li An Tien’s explanation. 

Turning back to Li An Tien, Li Chia-Hao spoke shortly, obviously issuing orders. He then made an imperious gesture at Hammond and swept past them, leaving Hammond scrambling in his wake. Laurence meant to turn to follow his progress, but the attempt swamped him with dizziness and he nearly went to his knees. Granby just managed to catch him at the waist and Li An Tien stepped in to get a grip on him as well.

Between Granby and Li An Tien, Laurence managed to make it to the guest house stairs more or less under his own power, Temeraire hovering anxiously over them. However, the steps themselves were more than he could readily manage, and Granby had to more than half carry him over the threshold, all three of them doing their best to conceal this from Temeraire, who could already be heard clawing at the courtyard stones. 

Laurence was only too happy to collapse down to his mattress and was unconscious almost before his head touched the pillow.


	6. Chapter Five

Laurence woke to a warm weight on his right side. For a moment, he thought he was back in England with Jane. He then perceived with some confusion a subtle vibration around him as though standing on the deck of a ship with the guns roaring beneath him, but the sound and motion were somehow both softened. By the time his recollections had caught up, he was awake enough to pick out the obvious differences, and then startled backwards. 

“Do not move so much, you will aggravate the wound,” Li An Tien said, lifting his head up from where he had been apparently sleeping curled against Laurence’s side. 

“Explain yourself, sir!” Laurence spluttered, wincing at the sharp stab of pain in his chest as he shifted too quickly and pulled on the injury. 

Li An Tien only blinked at him, lashes moving slowly over his dark eyes. “You have been wounded, Captain Laurence,” he said with deliberation, reaching out to put a hand on Laurence’s forehead. 

Laurence evaded the touch and struggled to sit upright. “I am perfectly aware. Explain your current position  _ in my bed _ ,” he clarified, which earned him only an expression of utmost confusion. 

“You were  _ wounded _ ,” Li An Tien repeated, and then said the words to himself again, as though to make sure he’d spoken in the correct language. “I knew you would not like to be separated from your betas, nor they from you, so I have installed myself in the guest house until you are well.” 

That did not explain at all why the other omega felt it necessary to sleep curled around him, but Laurence was quite sure he was missing something very important in the explanation. He shifted sideways, trying to put some proper distance between them, and Li An Tien finally seemed to understand. For a terrifying moment, it looked like he would begin to weep, but he straightened up and nodded. 

“I will inform your physician that you are awake,” he said softly, crawling backwards off the bed and leaving the room without another word. 

Laurence was deeply conscious of having offered some great offense, but could not conceive of how he might have been the offending party when Li An Tien had invaded his bed without Laurence’s consent or even knowledge. He dismissed the question with difficulty and took stock of himself, feeling cautiously at the edges of the bandage and pressing into the deep soreness just under his collarbone. 

“Do not prod at it, for God’s own sake!” Keynes said in obvious annoyance as he stepped into the room with Li An Tien and Granby both on his heels. “That damn blade was sharp enough to sever a man’s spine before he’d even noticed he’d been cut, and I am fairly certain it was poisoned besides.” 

Laurence blinked. “Poisoned?” 

“You have been asleep nearly two days, Captain,” Granby put in by way of explanation. “And burned with fever most of that.” 

“Ah,” Laurence responded succinctly. That did explain the ache in his joints and the weakness of his limbs. “Could I trouble one of you gentlemen for a glass of water?” 

This was presented almost instantly, though Laurence was dismayed to find that he needed help holding it up long enough to drink it. Li An Tien assisted him without comment, his expression carefully neutral. Laurence eyed him, somewhat irritated to see that he was perfectly presentable without so much as a hair out of place. Laurence could almost believe that finding the other omega in his bed had been a dream, except that Li An Tien was unwilling to meet his eyes. 

Keynes unwound the bandages while Granby gave him a report of the last two days. The assassin Temeraire had tried to crush into pulp had managed to commit suicide at some point between being thrown to Xiaqing and being dropped on the courtyard stones. Keynes and Granby both agreed that it was likely the same poison he had used to coat his blade. In any event, there were no identifying marks or convenient letters containing the whole of his plan found on his person, and so his origin remained officially a mystery. Unofficially, there was not a man or woman on the Li estate who was not perfectly aware the attempt had been made at Prince Yongxing’s order. 

While Laurence had slept off the poison, the Li estate had apparently been in an uproar of activity, with people coming and going all hours of the night and day. 

“Lord Li has been in talks with our allies,” Li An Tien explained. “All have reacted with outrage and promised their support.” 

Laurence had no notion of who these allies could be or what their support would mean. He doubted it had anything to do with him in his person, and had the uncomfortable feeling that the attempt on his life was being used to further multiple plots of which he could know nothing.

Once Keynes had satisfied himself that the wound had not mortified and the healing process was progressing nicely, he agreed to allow Laurence the partial use of his left arm, but warned him firmly that a single instance of unadvised idiocy would see him trussed up like a Christmas ham faster than he could beg for mercy. 

Laurence accepted this with only a glare in Keynes’ direction, and the surgeon left with as little ceremony as he’d entered. 

“The state of the crew?” Laurence asked, experimentally stretching his fingers out and extending his arm. It felt almost boneless after the days spent tied to his chest, and the muscles shivered with effort to even hold it off the bed. 

“Spitting mad, as you might well imagine,” Granby said, “but discipline is holding. I won’t answer for it if the prince shows his face again, though.” 

The words were barely out of his mouth before a furious thunder of feet on the hall preceded Roland, out of breath, bursting in the room to declare, “Prince Yongxing has come to take Captain Laurence away!” 

~*~ 

Despite fervent protests, Laurence insisted on leaving the guest house to see to the situation in person. He could hear the thunder of Temeraire’s voice clearly through the walls, and he did not like to think of the consequences of Temeraire managing to kill the emperor’s brother. 

“If you should try, I shall squash you on the spot, see if I will not!” Temeraire shouted, and Granby went pale. He stopped hindering Laurence’s progress and instead got under his good shoulder and propelled him more quickly toward the front entrance. Laurence had been wrapped hastily in a quilt by Li An Tien, but it was in danger of falling off at any moment, and so he was only half clothed and in a fine state of disarray by the time they made it to the courtyard. He remembered his insane impulse from the morning before - three mornings before - to walk out into the courtyard nude and had to stifle a wholly inappropriate laugh.

“My companion is only concerned for your… Captain Laurence’s safety,” Lien was saying as Laurence stumbled onto the stones. They had indeed been mauled quite badly by Temeraire’s anxious clawing, and Laurence winced to see the damage. 

“Oh that is all stuff!” Temeraire shot back. “He has tried to have my Laurence killed three times now, and I will kill him before he tries it again!”

Lien growled low in her chest, and Temeraire rose to all fours, ruff extending in quivering anger, head rearing back. 

“You mustn’t let them fight!” Li An Tien gasped in horror. 

“Temeraire!” Laurence boomed as though shouting over the shriek of a gale. 

Startled, Temeraire dropped out of the fighting stance and immediately darted forward to curl a protective arm around Laurence, blocking him from Lien or Yongxing’s sight. Immediate disaster averted for the moment, Laurence peered over Temeraire’s arm to take in the scene. Xiaqing and the lord’s Imperial were both standing in clearly defensive postures at the inner gate, and two dozen guards in what seemed to be the Li colors of blue, gold, and black, were arrayed before the massive doors. Laurence’s crew had taken up positions around the guest house, the barrels of the rifles visible in windows and around the corners of the buildings. 

For his part, Prince Yongxing stood calmly in the middle of the courtyard opposite Li Chia-Hao with a dozen nervous men behind him. The Li patriarch was arrayed in a set of robes so ostentatious in their adornment that Laurence would have readily believed him the emperor himself. In contrast, Yongxing was more simply dressed in dark colors. Three of the crimson dragons were crowded into the courtyard behind Lien, and she had made a point of arranging herself elegantly to show both them and herself to best advantage. The diadem of red stones on her brow and the golden chains dangling from it gleamed in the late-afternoon light. 

Into this fraught standoff, Hammond walked, bold as one might please, to stand between the two nobles and slightly off to one side. Both men looked at him with stunned expressions as he began to speak. 

“Oh, lord,” Granby groaned softly at Laurence’s side. “He will have us all executed for sure at this rate.”

“He is very… bold,” Li An Tien said with an obvious wince in his tone. “He is currently reassuring the prince that we, by which I assume he means the English, do not hold him responsible for the attack and are grateful for his concern for his most honored Celestial Captain Laurence’s health.”

“The hell we are!” Granby exclaimed under his breath, rising onto his toes to look over Temeraire’s talon, just as Temeraire himself declared at a far less discreet volume that they most certainly  _ did  _ hold him culpable. 

“I hope he is not foolish enough to attempt to speak for my father,” Li An Tien said, but Hammond had apparently restrained himself on this front alone. He made a respectful bow to both men, pushing his spectacles up his nose with one nervous hand.

Tensions slowly declined as Yongxing made some reply to Hammond, and then inclined his head to Li Chia-Hao and addressed him with a remark. Li Chia-Hao answered him stiffly. 

“The prince has prepared a fortified location for you and your crew at the emperor’s command, to better protect Lung Tien Xiang and his companion against any further attacks.” 

“I’m sure Lord Li appreciates the implication that he can’t protect his guests,” Granby muttered. 

“Indeed,” Li An Tien said as Li Chia-Hao made an icy comment, no doubt to that effect. 

Rather than continue the conversation with the Li patriarch, Prince Yongxing turned to Laurence and Temeraire. “The Son of Heaven has commanded that you be made safe in your person, Captain Laurence. Will you deny him the pleasure of ensuring your good health and the happiness of Lung Tien Xiang?” 

Laurence looked around the courtyard again, already primed for an explosion. In an undertone he asked, “Is it even feasible to deny him?” 

Li An Tien shook his head once, and his voice was tight when he responded, “No. It is an order from the emperor.” 

“You cannot go with him, sir,” Granby protested at once. “As soon as you are away, you are as good as dead.” 

“I am aware, Mr. Granby.” 

“I will not allow him to take you anywhere, Laurence,” Temeraire put in. He was trembling faintly in rage, and it would take only a single misstep on any side to see the courtyard reduced to rubble beneath the force of the Divine Wind. 

“My dear, I do not intend to allow him to take me anywhere without you,” Laurence reassured him with gentle emphasis, reaching out to pet a calming hand down Temeraire’s cheek. As his teeth were still prominently on display, Laurence ended up petting more fang than hide, but the deep warning rumble softened noticeably.

"What would be the expectations of any other member of Lord Li's clan in a similar situation?"

"That you not be taken from our care at all," Li An Tien said, a note of flustered irritation in his voice, though it was well concealed in his expression.

Laurence nodded. "You must allow me to make my answer, Temeraire.”

“I most certainly will not,” Temeraire said. 

“Temeraire, we cannot be the aggressors in this if we wish to have any hope of not only succeeding at our mission, but for any of our crew - our  _ betas _ to leave this country alive,” Laurence said softly, hitting on the term on a whim. “You will be always present for our protection, and he cannot take any aggressive action toward us here.”

To his relief, this appeal both to his ego and his sense of possessiveness seemed to get through to Temeraire at last. He shifted uncomfortably for several seconds, but finally moved his arm so Laurence could step into view of the prince and his party. Li An Tien blocked his path just long enough to secure the quilt more firmly about his shoulders, and then unwound a cloth strip from his waist and hastily tied it about Laurence’s throat in place of his collar. Laurence twitched in annoyance, but held his chin out of the way to allow it. 

He hardly cut an impressive figure, wrapped in a blanket with his trousers a rumpled mess and hair in a tangled nest around his neck. He did his best to make the prince a shallow bow, remembering at the last moment that Li An Tien had halted the depth of his bow even to Temeraire’s mother. Laurence couldn’t imagine that the prince would warrant any deeper respect. 

“Thank you for your concern, your highness, and of course myself and my party will depart in company with yours at the emperor’s command. I am certain that Lord Li will be happy to provide an escort for our journey.”

Yongxing glared at him as Hammond translated this for Li Chia-Hao’s benefit. The lord turned to Laurence with a bare incline of his head, speaking loudly enough that though he was addressing Laurence, his words were clearly for Yongxing’s benefit. 

“The Li clan will be honored to fulfil the emperor’s orders of seeing to your safety,” Li An Tien translated. “Being a junior of our clan, you cannot be expected to travel without your senior and those servants suitable for your rank.” 

From his expression, it was plainly obvious that Yongxing would very much like to protest, but his eyes moved around his opposition and he nodded without response. He turned away and was picked up at once by Lien, who rose with a derisive look in Temeraire’s direction. 

“We await your pleasure,” she said coldly. 

At her words, the courtyard exploded in a flurry of activity. Half a dozen of the Li guards split away from the main force at the door to rush Laurence and Li An Tien back into the guest house. Now that a decision had been made, it was obvious that the prince was  _ not _ awaiting their pleasure, and they were obliged to be off at once. 

Granby had the crew whipped up into a similar frenzy of activity in moments. Laurence had become accustomed to the pell-mell organization of aviators, and was not surprised by the speed of baggage being thrown together and hauled into the courtyard. For his part, Laurence was secured in his room with Li An Tien to be kept safely out of the way. He wanted to be annoyed by the coddling, but he was well aware that in his current state he could hardly be of any material assistance to the decampment. Ruefully, he admitted to himself that he would be far more likely to be a hindrance.

Moving swiftly, Li An Tien extricated him from the quilt and eased him into a robe that opened in the front. Laurence managed to reach up one handed to remove the dark length of cloth from his throat, which had not been tied so much as looped behind his neck. He offered it out to Li An Tien, who took it without comment.

Laurence had been dressed in a second, and then a third layer of soft silk when a servant had appeared with a familiar polished wooden box. Laurence was unsurprised to see the golden collar reappear, but he was surprised to see that it had already been repaired and it shined as brightly as it had the first time he'd laid eyes on it. Even the length of his watch chain had been replaced with gold as though it had never existed. One handed, Laurence could not have secured the chain himself, so he was forced to stand and allow Li An Tien to once again clasp it around his neck. 

“This is becoming a pattern,” he said, more out of frustration than anger.

Li An Tien hesitated a moment, but then replied, “That you have never had the comfort of another to do this for you pains me deeply.”

Laurence was taken aback by the sentiment. He had never thought of being collared as anything other than humiliation, a complete loss of all agency and sense of self. Despite the myriad examples around him, he had not yet considered that it would have an entirely different meaning for Li An Tien. 

“My apologies,” Laurence said softly. 

Li An Tien put a gentle hand on his cheek. He remembered himself quickly and pulled it away before Laurence could react to the touch. “There is no need for apology,” he said, swaying briefly as though restraining himself from reaching out to touch Laurence any further. 

By the time Laurence was deemed presentable, the rest of the baggage and crew had been loaded onto Xiaqing and the same two lightweight dragons Laurence recognized from their first trip to the Li estate. Along with Laurence’s own crew, a dozen of the Li guards could be seen in harness, along with what Laurence could only assume were the promised servants. 

Laurence guessed it was far too late to bar any of them from accompanying him, but he had a moment’s thought that he might wait until they were aloft and turn Temeraire instead for Guangzhou and the  _ Allegiance _ , trailing slowly behind them en route for the capital. It was a tempting thought, except that his crew were effectively hostage on two other beasts.

“Those red dragons dared to say they might carry  _ my crew _ ,” Temeraire said scornfully and none too quietly as Laurence was brought aboard. “As though I would trust them with our betas.” 

Roland was brought aboard with him out of deference to his injury, and she helped him ease the harness straps around his injured shoulder and clipped him to Temeraire’s collar before securing herself. He didn’t fight when she wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, just tucked the trailing ends into his harness. 

“Are you comfortable, Captain?”

“Roland, my nursemaid is approximately the size of a 76-gun frigate. I do not require another.” 

She wasn’t even fazed by his tone as she settled in next to him. He noticed that she had two pistols in her belt, and one hand playing nervously with the butt of the right-hand pistol. Laurence had grown used to his officers trying to shield him, but he wasn’t about to sit by and let a 12 year-old girl play bodyguard for him. 

He huffed out a laugh at himself. He was currently in no condition to defend anyone, perhaps least of all himself, so he would just have to hope that a nursemaid the size of a 76-gun frigate would be enough to keep him out of trouble until he had the use of all four limbs once again. 

“Are you quite secure, Laurence? Roland?” asked the nursemaid in question, and would not take off until he had been reassured multiple times that they were locked on, and Laurence was well swaddled in his silk quilt.

“How are you and Dyer settling in here in China, Roland?” Laurence asked once they were in the air. 

She shrugged. “If there weren’t so many people trying to kill you, it’d be great,” she said guilelessly. “There’s so many dragons here, sir, and people just treat them like they’re… people. Even the Winchesters can’t go into town back home or people scream like they’re some kind of monster.” 

“It is a matter of association, I believe,” Laurence said. “The Chinese grow up with dragons from the time of their earliest memories. In England, we have only stories of marauding dragons sweeping up young maidens, or, at best, dangerous beasts barely controlled by their captains. People are not forced to associate with them, and so have no opportunity to form any differing opinion on the subject.” 

“But it doesn’t have to be like that,” Roland said.

Laurence nodded. “I agree.” 

She looked up at him sideways. “Shouldn’t be like that for… for you neither,” she muttered. 

Momentarily trapped between warring instincts to pretend he didn’t understand what she was saying and to demand that the topic be dropped indefinitely, Laurence took a moment to just breathe in the cool air. 

“Either,” he said finally. “It should not be like that for you  _ either _ .” Though he was aware she was referring to his orientation, he meant it for her as well. While her rights outside of a covert were not quite so curtailed as his own would be, they were also not at all what they ought to be.

She rolled her eyes at him, and then immediately went still, flinching when she realized what she had done. Laurence feigned that he had not seen, and the tension broke between them as easily as that. “Maybe it won’t be always?” 

“Change is inevitable,” Laurence said, forcing some cheerfulness into his voice that he did not entirely feel. “We can only hope that the change is a positive one.” 

He found the likelihood of any significant change toward the treatment of England's omegas in his lifetime to be slim at best, but maybe during hers there might be some improvement.

~*~

Lien led them around Peking to another island. It was larger than the island where the Li estate was located, their flyover showing dozens of fine homes with large surrounding gardens, but all of them looked deserted from the air. They were landed at one of the smaller of these spacious estates, but the whole of it was enclosed in a high wall, and the house would be more than sufficient for their needs. 

“The entire island has been vacated to better ensure the safety of Lung Tien Xiang and his chosen companion,” Yongxing said when applied to regarding the occupancy of the island. His expression made it clear that his primary concern was not their safety - or, at least, not  _ Laurence’s  _ safety - but more likely isolating them from potential witnesses. 

A small table and chair had been brought out for Yongxing, and he was already seated to observe as the Li servants and guards began unpacking their baggage. At a glance from Laurence, Granby had the riflemen set up on the deck, casually cleaning their weapons while the others ferried bags inside. 

“My dear, perhaps you would like to join Prince Yongxing, Li An Tien, and I for tea?” Laurence suggested, giving Temeraire an unsubtle nudge to get him in a position that would block the prince’s view of the front of the house. He would not completely block Lien’s view, but her ruff flattened against her neck as Temeraire settled down in the courtyard, grumbling that he would  _ not  _ like to take tea with the prince at all. 

Li An Tien joined him with Xiaqing. He took one sweeping look at Temeraire’s arrangement and then ran a seemingly idle hand down Xiaqing’s forearm. She chose to sit upright at Temeraire’s side and mantled her wings up to catch the sunlight. 

A servant came over with two chairs and a second small table. This was set up some short distance from Yongxing, who gave no outward sign that he was displeased by the interruption to his line of sight. His gaze remained unfocused and directed through Temeraire’s shoulders, as though he could still see the riflemen cleaning their muskets. 

“What a lovely estate,” Li An Tien observed once a fresh pot of tea had been added to their small table.

When Yongxing made no response, Lien offered, “It is the home of a dear friend of His Highness.” She turned her head to angle her gaze obliquely at Laurence. “Captain Laurence, are you quite comfortable?” 

Temeraire sat up straight, ruff flattening to his neck. He snorted. “You do not need to talk to Laurence about anything!” he declared, but then undermined his own edict by looking down anxiously at Laurence to ask, “You are quite comfortable, are you not, Laurence?” 

In truth, Laurence regretted handing his quilt off to Roland before stepping into Temeraire’s talon to be put down. He was tired and chilled after the fight, and could feel a tremble starting in his chest that bid fair to manifest into a cough. He took a deep breath to calm the shiver, offered Temeraire a smile, and took a sip of his tea. It was at least warm and felt pleasant sliding down his throat. 

“Of course, my dear. I could not be more comfortable.” 

There was just the briefest flash of a glare on Prince Yongxing’s face, and then it vanished. Li An Tien struck up a conversation that he was kind enough to carry with only minimal input from Laurence. Xiaqing proved herself to be an able conversationalist and a match for Lien’s frequently withering comments, while Temeraire only joined when provoked, and then in tones of the utmost heat.

At an awkward lull in the conversation, Laurence paid a compliment to Li An Tien’s fine robes, the pale blue color of which was particularly attractive. At Li An Tien’s gracious nod, Laurence thanked him again for the loan of his own clothing, though he privately suspected that he did not quite cut the same figure in the silk as the slender Li An Tien. 

Yongxing interjected somewhat rudely in their conversation to ask, “Do you know how silk is made?” When Laurence professed that he did not, though he had some notion of it involving caterpillars of some kind, Yongxing explained, “The silkworms are protected from predators and allowed to gorge on the bounty of the land to their heart’s content. When they spin themselves into their cocoons, they are collected, and boiled in water so the pupae dies and the cocoon remains. That is how silk cloth is made.” He met Laurence’s eyes and held them boldly.

“Oh, I know a particular someone I would like to boil to death,” Temeraire said, none too quietly. 

Shocked and appalled, Laurence inhaled a mouthful of his tea and set to coughing it violently out of his lungs, which in turn set his injury to burning. In alarm, Li An Tien reached over to slap at his back, while Temeraire made a distressed noise and said something that Laurence did not catch over his own coughing, but that did not sound complimentary based on the tone alone. From the sudden warmth and wetness under his clothing, Laurence realized that he must have pulled the stitches, a fact he sought to hide as he finally regained the use of his lungs and was able to get in a full breath. 

“My dear, how aggressive you have become,” Laurence said, his voice hoarse from the coughing. Yongxing gave Temeraire a speculative look that Laurence did not like in the least.

“It is nothing less than the truth,” Temeraire said stubbornly, looking away from Laurence with a sulky air once he had ascertained that Laurence was not going to die at that very moment. 

Apparently coming to the same conclusion that Laurence was not about to conveniently drown in his tea, Yongxing set his cup down, stood without a word, and turned away. Seemingly as an afterthought, he glanced over his shoulder to say, “I wish you a speedy recovery, Captain Laurence." 

“Li Laurence Tien,” Li An Tien corrected softly. 

Yongxing’s shoulders twitched, but he turned around as though he hadn’t heard. Lien stood, holding one talon out for him, and lifted him up. He did not give them so much as another glance as Lien moved away to give herself some room to launch into the air. 

Laurence and Li An Tien sat in a strained silence for several minutes in the wake of Yongxing’s departure and Temeraire’s ruthlessness.

“I feel perpetually at sea listening to your casual conversation,” Laurence said, groping for something to fill the silence. “I am certain I must have missed perhaps seven conversations in your one.”

Li An Tien laughed softly and Xiaqing finally stretched out on the ground. 

“It is a skill absorbed more through the skin than learned, talking to important men in China,” Li An Tien told him. “I envy that you have never had need of it.”

Laurence made a vague noise of acknowledgement and did not turn away when Li An Tien offered an arm to help him up. He was sorry to admit that he may not have been able to manage it on his own, and leaned on Li An Tien’s shoulder as they moved around the dragons to the house. Temeraire was clearly in a sulk, and had laid the full length of his neck on the ground so his head was under the tree cover. Behind him, his tail thumped against the courtyard stones like that of an annoyed cat.

Making a mental note to sit and read with Temeraire as soon as he could keep himself awake long enough to manage it, he let Li An Tien lead him to a bed, and didn’t bother to stay conscious long enough to warn Li An Tien away from his side while he slept. 


	7. Chapter Six

It was past noon before he woke again. His bed was thankfully empty, but Li An Tien sat at a low desk on the other side of the room, reading a scroll with an ornate tassel coiled around the desk and falling over one side. Laurence pressed a hand over the thick pad of bandages covering the wound. The deep throb of pain from the pressure offset what he knew from experience would be a sharper pain from moving, and he used the initial shock of it to get himself upright. 

“I begin to believe your doctor is correct about you.” 

“I do not doubt that he is.” His voice came out a rough croak, and he rubbed at his face with his free hand, wincing at the pull to the injury. “I would have preferred a longer nap,” he admitted. 

“You slept a night and most of the afternoon,” Li An Tien told him, looking at him sideways with a sly smile.

Laurence hated, very much, being injured. He dropped his hand away from the bandages and reached for an elaborately painted porcelain cup of water on the bedside table. His hand still shook faintly, but he was able to get the cup up to his mouth and back down to the table without embarrassing himself. 

“You have been invited to the Forbidden City,” Li An Tien announced after the cup had been safely returned to the table. “Lung Tien Xiang’s mother has requested an audience once you are well enough to make the trip.”

“You sound surprised.”

“It is a positive sign that she has included you in an official invitation. She is notoriously… picky, I believe is the word? She is picky with her favors. The timing, however, may provide your enemies with an opportunity for mischief in your absence.” 

“Then I cannot go.” 

“I am afraid that you cannot stay,” Li An Tien said regretfully. “She has made a concession for your injury, but that cannot last. A polite invitation from the Celestial Court is not  _ actually  _ a polite invitation.” 

For the space of several breaths, Laurence wanted to be home. Not Loch Laggan, or Dover, or even Wollaton Hall. He wanted his cabin back on the  _ Reliant  _ when the most he’d had to worry about was the direction of the wind, and how close he was to a cycle. His life had been fraught with a score of dangers, but they had been largely personal dangers. This business of dealing with emperors and princes and nobles and their impossible etiquette was nearly enough to swamp his self control. 

He turned to the window at a flash of movement to see Temeraire in the distance, wings spread to catch the afternoon sunlight, hide seeming to glow under the sun. That familiar happiness bubbled through him, and he huffed out a laugh. Even the impossible etiquette of royalty was not quite enough to wish that he had missed the  _ Amitie  _ on the horizon.

“Then I suppose I will need to dress. Unfortunately, I seem to recall that my jacket was left in bloody tatters after its most recent brush with my surgeon.”

Li An Tien set the scroll down and turned to give Laurence his full attention. “I have seen to your wardrobe. You and I are not so far apart in size to make that impossible, though some… creativity will be needed across the chest. Shall I fetch your Lieutenant Granby to assist you?” 

Laurence guessed there was another of those multilayered conversations occurring between them. He was entirely at a loss as to how to respond. He needed Li An Tien’s goodwill, but was uncertain as to the other omega’s intentions, or how to interpret his behavior. If he had witnessed it in a young lady across a ballroom floor, he would have guessed her to be a jealous mistress. And yet, for as much as Li An Tien touched him, Laurence had never had any sense of physical desire from him. 

“Why did you offer me that collar?” Laurence asked. The collar in question had been secured in its box before Laurence had fallen asleep. The box sat on a free-standing shelf of a curiously appealing design, each section of it a different size as though it had been designed for the items it was holding. 

Li An Tien was quiet for a moment. “Why did you accept?” 

If Hammond had been in the room, Laurence imagined he would have been vibrating with agitation. There were a thousand politics underlying the question that Laurence didn’t understand, and any answer he made had the chance of causing an explosion in response. 

“I did not have a choice,” Laurence said finally, shaking his head as if he could empty out all the buzzing questions. 

Li An Tien smiled at him, the expression bright on his face. “Neither did I.” 

He stood, leaving the scroll rolled neatly on the desk, and opened a chest in the corner to pull out a pile of blue and gold cloth, richly embroidered and studded with winking gems. Laurence groaned, but he stood as Li An Tien approached and did not protest his robe being pulled away.

Li An Tien may have been a trained valet for the strict professionalism and the care he took with dressing Laurence. After the first shorter robe, a diaphanous affair of pale silk, was pulled closed over his bandages, he relaxed. Manipulating his left arm into the long sleeve was painful and remarkably taxing, and he was ashamed to note that he had broken out in a light sweat by the time the second layer, a similarly shaped robe in light gold, had been drawn over his chest. Li An Tien appropriated Laurence’s right hand to hold it closed while he retrieved the final layer.

“This is an older style of dress,” Li An Tien explained. “It is not currently in fashion, but it will answer better both to the proportions of your chest and to your injury.”

“I see,” Laurence said, already shifting uncomfortably in the constraints of the fabric. “Being out of fashion will hardly be the worst of my sins.” In truth, he was not strictly in fashion at home either, preferring still the knee breeches and queue that had not been considered fashionable for some years.

“You will be eccentric,” Li An Tien said with a note of amusement. He unfolded the last length of silk and Laurence realized that was not another robe, but rather a kind of skirt with slits open on either side. It was not so different in shape than the current acceptable dress for male omegas in England, a fact that had him automatically drawing away. 

Li An Tien hiked a curious eyebrow at him. “In truth, it is more comfortable than the current fashion, though I will thank you not to tell anyone I said so.” He held the silk up again, and Laurence reluctantly stepped forward for it to be wrapped around his waist. It acted as a belt to hold the previous two layers closed once secured, and then an additional thin cord of gold was added over top of it. The cord had small bells at the ends which tinkled as he moved, an embellishment that would have irritated him more if the collar did not already do as much.

“Will you be accompanying us?” Laurence asked, shifting in the unfamiliar garments, trying and failing not to feel that he was being sent out in his bedclothes. 

“The invitation did not include me. Do not be concerned, it is not any particular rudeness on her part. Our family are close supporters of the Crown Prince, and she cannot be seen to be showing us any particular favoritism at this time. You are the companion to her son, and so you may be extended an invitation for his sake. If she were to invite me as well, she would need to also invite a similarly ranked member of an opposing family to avoid the appearance of favoritism.” He eased Laurence into a chair in front of a mirror and picked up a comb. 

“She has already shown us her favor,” Laurence protested. If the invitation had not included Li An Tien, it had certainly not included Hammond or any of his own men either. He was reluctant to put himself wholly into her hands alone. 

“She has given you her personal approval. It is not the same thing. The Li clan has significant influence, but we are not the only, or even the largest, omega clan with ties to the palace. I assure you, it is all to the good that we do not give the Kang or the Dai any further reason to complain that we have adopted you.” 

Laurence twisted in the chair to look up at him. He halted mid-turn and hissed. “I beg your pardon?” 

“Court politics,” Li An Tien said, nudging him to turn back around. He pulled Laurence’s hair into a neat queue and tied it with a blue ribbon to match the robes. Laurence eyed his reflection. He could hardly say that he had not known his hasty collaring and adoption had a political motivation, but it nonetheless made him deeply uncomfortable to hear aloud. 

He stood, and Li An Tien smoothed the silk down carefully over the bandage pad, making fussy adjustments over his shoulders, and then turned for the collar. He hesitated with it between his fingers. “If I knew of a way to take this back without shaming us both, I would,” he said quietly. 

Laurence winced. He suspected that even if the Li clan did withdraw the collar, it would result only in some other clan stepping into their place. “The thing is done, and there is no use lamenting it. In all honesty, as… difficult as I may later find the consequences, you have nonetheless done us a great service by it.”

Li An Tien ducked his head in acknowledgement and turned to drape the heavy collar around Laurence’s neck. He was proficient with the catch and had it secured almost before Laurence had registered its weight.

~*~

Despite the dire predictions, their days stretched into a routine of monotony. Li An Tien woke him every morning with a new scroll in hand. On the third day of this ritual, Laurence surprised them both by sitting next to him at the desk and requesting that it be read aloud in the original Chinese. Li An Tien did so slowly, fingers tracking below the characters. Laurence recognized some few of these from his reluctant studies aboard the _ Allegiance _ . As the letters followed a similar format daily, he quickly learned to recognize several more, and was able to surprise Temeraire by demonstrating a few, drawn out crudely in the dirt. 

After breakfast each morning, Laurence and Temeraire would leave the villa for Qian’s pavilion, where Laurence would engage in an anxiety-inducing conversation with Temeraire’s mother over tea before being released to a bevy of scholars tasked with beating some knowledge and class into his head. The first two days, he escaped the majority of these lessons by the expediency of dozing off in his chair, an astonishing bit of rudeness that was forgiven only by his still-healing injury.

Laurence grew stronger by the day, and was comfortable dressing himself by the middle of the second week, though Li An Tien continued to offer him the collar daily. Laurence had grown so accustomed to being collared thusly that he no longer flinched at the other man’s proximity, even when he would have been able to take over doing it himself. 

When they returned in the evenings, Laurence often found Li An Tien and Granby in quiet conversation, and was chagrined to realize that Granby’s skill in the Chinese language was quickly outstripping his own as a result, to say nothing of Roland and Dyer, who could be heard frequently chatting with the Li servants and guards. The words tripped off their tongues with such speed that Laurence could hardly credit it was ever foreign to them. 

He was initially concerned about the discipline of the crew, but an early return one day showed Granby putting them through their paces and most of the crew gasping in exhaustion as they came to a messy halt in the courtyard. Xiaqing had apparently agreed to go under harness for the exercise, and was standing stoically as the crew scrambled over her body. 

“But that is  _ my _ harness,” Temeraire complained. 

“You would not like our crew to get out of shape, would you?” Laurence said in an attempt to soothe him. 

Xiaqing bowed low to him and said something that Laurence caught maybe three words in ten. Temeraire straightened slowly, ruff smoothing down. 

“I suppose I would not like the crew to be out of shape,” he said finally, though he still gave Xiaqing a suspicious look. “But they are  _ my crew _ ,” he said. “They shall not stay with her.” 

“I would never dream of such a thing,” Xiaqing said. “I am most honored to assist in any poor way I may.”

Temeraire snorted, but he did not protest when Granby rousted the men up from where they had dropped to sit on the ground and had them back aboard, climbing the harness straps with only their arms, legs dangling below them. The runners, unsurprisingly, completed these exercises swiftly enough that Granby had them running up and down the length of Xiaqing’s back from the base of her neck to her tail as the rest of the crew got aboard and started drills. 

“I will be able to have my crew back, will I not, Laurence?” Temeraire asked as he set Laurence down next to Li An Tien, who was seated on a long wooden bench with a stack of books on one side, and a rather delicate-looking desk in front of him with brush and ink. 

“My dear, the crew are still our crew,” Laurence said to avoid having to give a real answer. The future was anything but certain, and he did not want to make promises to Temeraire that he may ultimately not be able to keep. Assuming that they would be allowed to return to England at all, Laurence could in no wise be sanguine about the chances of the Admiralty allowing him to keep his position. 

Li An Tien made space for him on the bench. Laurence took it, watching the crew in their exercises and wishing he could be aboard. He had held Granby in high esteem before, but this was the first real opportunity he had to see his first lieutenant fully in command from the outside. The man was a natural, and Laurence could easily picture him as a captain in his own right. He was ashamed to have a passing thought that it might be another solution to offer the Admiralty, though he had no idea how he could possibly handle the situation if his own first lieutenant were placed in a position of authority over him, even if only in name. 

“You have a disciplined crew,” Li An Tien said, looking up from his papers. 

“They are all good men,” Laurence agreed.

Li An Tien gave him a curious sideways look, but only made a noise of acknowledgement and returned to his work. Laurence was still not sure entirely what he did, though he knew that Li An Tien was a government official of some sort. The information had not been volunteered, and he had not felt that it was his place to interrogate his host. 

A few moments later, one of the servants brought him a pot of tea and a plate of dried persimmons dusted with powdered sugar. For Temeraire, two men lugged out a basket made of edible rice paper and filled with the dried fruits, a treat that Temeraire ate whole and praised nicely, making both cooks flush up with pride.

~*~

Temeraire was thrilled with his new wardrobe, but Li An Tien surprised him before his tenth visit to Qian’s pavilion with an aviator’s jacket. The color was not precisely correct, and the tailor had apparently been unable to restrain himself from a cuff embroidered with dragons with small sapphires for eyes, and a gold silk lining. A silk waistcoat was included in the stack of clothing with gold buttons and green embroidery at the hem. Though not ultimately practical for everyday wear, they were fine garments, and Laurence was happy to offer Li An Tien his gratitude.

The omega’s obvious start at being thanked shamed Laurence into realizing that he had yet to express any real gratitude to the man. It was not precisely Li An Tien’s fault that Laurence had been exposed or thrust into a position he hardly wanted, but the man had been nothing but helpful and polite, if also mysterious and too inclined toward invading Laurence's personal space. He did not deserve the full measure of Laurence’s irritation, and rather deserved more gratitude than Laurence could easily express.

Granby had looked equal parts relieved and amused to see him in the modified uniform, hastily hiding a smile behind his hand as Laurence strode through the courtyard, feeling dressed for the first time since the walk through the Peking market. The embellishments to the jacket saved Temeraire’s mood after Laurence appeared in uniform rather than Li An Tien’s creatively arranged robes. 

“My dear, you will turn me into a peacock,” Laurence teased, climbing up himself for the first time since the assassination attempt. His weight pulled at the wound as he climbed the chain of Temeraire’s collar, but it did not hurt badly enough to do more than make him hiss through his teeth at the first pull. He rotated his shoulder to loosen it up once he was settled in his customary place at the base of Temeraire’s neck. 

“I only think that you look very well in the silk robes,” Temeraire said, sniffing haughtily. “I am told that the width of your shoulders makes for a good shape.” 

Blushing hotly, Laurence cleared his throat. “I would prefer if you do not share the source of that particular intelligence. I shall never be able to look them in the face again!”

Temeraire snorted. He was shifting with an unfamiliar agitation as Laurence got himself settled. “I do not know why you shouldn’t. I see no reason at all why everyone should not recognize that my captain is such a fine figure.”

The blush on his cheeks turned to a full, feverish blaze. “My dear, you do make me blush,” he said uncomfortably, looking down to see if anyone else had overheard the not especially private comment. To his eternal embarrassment, he noticed Li An Tien and Granby taking tea in the shadow of Xiaqing’s bulk. All three of them were paying scrupulous attention to anything other than Laurence and Temeraire.

“You are in fine form today, Temeraire,” Laurence said finally, sighing. “Let us away before you quite strike me dead with your compliments.”

Temeraire snorted again, more amused this time, and gathered himself to leap aloft.

The flight to Qian’s pavilion in the Forbidden City was a short and familiar one. Lung Qin Mei met them at the gates, as had become her habit, and Laurence could feel Temeraire’s tail lifting from the change in his posture. His ruff extended slightly as well, tendrils quivering in excitement. She was a charming figure and had grown to be Temeraire’s companion over the course of their daily visits. From the marked differences in Temeraire's behavior versus what he had witnessed with Xiaqing, Laurence guessed that he had become more than merely attached to her. 

A few choice phrases regarding Temeraire’s obvious affection for the other dragon leapt to his mouth, but he swallowed them back down. It would not due to be petty, and Mei had reached them in any event. She ducked down slightly to nuzzle at the bottom-side of Temeraire’s chin, and then craned her neck to see over his shoulder.

“Good afternoon, Celestial Captain Laurence,” she greeted. She had been studying English diligently, and, like Temeraire, seemed to have a natural affinity for language, but her accent was still so thick that he would not have understood the words at all except that he had been receiving his instruction in Chinese alongside her instruction in English. She was certainly progressing much more quickly than he was, and he suspected that she sat in on his daily lessons only out of politeness.

Laurence returned her greeting in his fumbling Chinese, his pronunciation of which made Temeraire flinch, and she made him a bow.

“My dear, if you would be so kind as to set me to ground, I believe I should like a quick turn about the lake today.”

“I can accompany you. If you would like,” Temeraire said with a guilty note in his voice that was offset in the extreme by the return of his shuffling.

Laurence stifled a laugh. “There is no need. I think I may go beneath the willow trees, and they are a trifle too small for you to follow. That is, if you will not miss my company for a short time?” he teased.

“Oh, no, I would not want to keep you from the pleasure of it, Laurence. I imagine they are too short for me after all,” Temeraire said quickly. “Though perhaps I will ask one of the artists to make me a painting so I might see what the lake looks like beneath them.”

“I am sure they would be happy to oblige you,” Laurence said, pointedly not saying that they would not refuse him even if they were not happy to oblige. He had no doubt that an artist was being hustled under a willow tree even as they spoke to undertake the commission.

Laurence slid the short distance down the side of Temeraire’s neck to land in his talon, and then straightened his jacket as soon as he was on the ground.

"You must not let my captain out of your sight for anything," Temeraire said sternly to the guards who were waiting patiently by to take up positions as his sitters. "If he should be injured, or drowned, or assassinated at all, I shall hold you responsible."

The guards replied with all the necessary gravity, but they had received a variation on this same warning every day for a week and it did not have the same impact as it had the first day. The result of which being that not only had Laurence not been allowed out of sight, one or the other of them was always so close to him that he may as well have been put on a leash. 

Temeraire walked away with Mei, his tail held at an excited angle as they fell into a conversation about mathematics that quickly transitioned into Chinese. Laurence eyed his guards speculatively, trying to guess how likely he would be to escape their reach for some much needed privacy. Based on the mildly suspicious look that the older of the two gave him, he doubted that he would make it far, and, in truth, he would not feel right doing it. If he should manage to get himself injured while out of their sight, Qian would certainly hold them liable even if Temeraire did not.

After the months of boredom and monotony on the voyage, he would have thought that some activity would be welcome. He had never before made a voyage of any substantial length as a passenger with virtually no duties aboard, and had felt a nagging sense of wrongness for the majority of the trip. However, after the whirlwind that his life had become in just the few weeks since making port in Guangzhou, Laurence found himself missing the quiet days on board the  _ Allegiance. _ He would have given much just then for even a few minutes left entirely to himself.

Although Temeraire was out of sight, and likely would not have noticed Laurence’s path even if he had been right beside him, Laurence did take the graveled track to the lake. It was a pretty thing, perhaps a hundred meters across, the banks choked with lotus and filled with the croaking of frogs. The guards stayed some distance back, talking quietly amongst themselves. He still did not have enough Chinese to follow their conversation in its entirety, but he picked out enough words to guess they were discussing their respective families. 

Tuning out the murmur of their voices, Laurence left the path for the carefully tended greenery at the lakeside. The ground beneath his feet was soft, but not marshy, and he was able to slip under the trailing branches of the willow tree and into the twilit shade beneath. The guards did follow, as expected, but at least did him the courtesy of keeping out of his immediate line of sight. He surveyed the view for a moment, and then turned to sit at the base of the tree. He caught a brief flutter of movement out of the corner of his eye as the two guards held an intense, though silent, conversation with their hands. No doubt he was committing some grave error in etiquette by sitting directly on the ground, but neither apparently felt they could leave long enough to fetch him a chair.

It would not do to laugh at their predicament. Any other day, he may have gotten up and left the shelter of the willow to save them the conflict, but instead, he leaned back against the trunk to rest his eyes. He had recovered enough that he no longer felt as though he were constantly on the verge of drifting off to sleep whenever he stayed still for more than a few minutes, but he was still tired more frequently than he was not. The shady spot was comfortably cool and filled with the sounds of the frogs, and, having sat down, he did not feel inclined to get back up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am realizing that poor Laurence has ended up sleeping a lot these last few chapters. xD


	8. Chapter Seven

He hadn’t meant to nap, but the position of the sun had shifted when he next opened his eyes. He stretched carefully, warming his shoulder up before he tried to get it to take any weight. His guards were still on hand, and the younger of the pair hovered uncertainly over him as he struggled to get himself up to his knees. Unless he ordered them to, neither of them would touch him for fear of losing their hands. As his Chinese was only a half step removed from infantile babbling, and they seemed to have not a single word of English between them, he had not attempted to relieve them of that particular requirement. 

Once he was on his knees, it took only a bit of balance to get up to his feet. His low back gave a faint throb of protest at sleeping upright on the ground. He laughed softly at himself, remembering the days of his youth, disappearing into the trees surrounding his family’s home and sleeping in the brush until the sun went down and the chill drove him back inside. 

He ducked out from under the willow and cast a look around. Qian was just then emerging from her pavilion and stretching in the morning sunlight. She was dressed in a silk sash and a lovely diadem of pink gems, a profusion of fresh flowers decorating the crown. Laurence had learned that while he had been summoned ostensibly for an interview with the matriarch in addition to his daily lessons, she was not expected to be prompt for their conversation. Nonetheless, he likely should not have taken the detour and instead waited for her at the table.

“Has your meditation been fruitful?” Qian asked him when he joined her up the hill. 

Laurence blushed faintly. He cleared his throat and said, “You have a very peaceful home, madam.” 

She inclined her head. “You are a gracious guest. Tea?” 

Arranging himself carefully at the low table, Laurence nodded, though he would have dearly loved a strong pot of coffee just then. The tea was poured, and she waited until he had taken the first sip before lifting her own bowl. They drank for a moment in silence, enjoying the breeze and the sunshine. Laurence’s tutors were waiting some distance off, set up in a circle under a pavilion and obviously as anxious for the return of their pupil as Laurence was to be put back in their care. 

“Captain Laurence,” Qian said after a moment of relatively comfortable silence, “how is your health?”

“Very well, ma’am, thank you for your concern. I have been recovering nicely.”

“That is good.” She said with a deep nod. 

Another moment of silence passed, and Laurence filled it by sipping again at his tea. The blend of the day was stronger than the ones that had come before, and so far they had not had the same blend twice. It had a faint floral flavor that he did not find especially pleasant, but it was more palatable than the toasted barley of the day before.

“May I make a very rude inquiry of you?” 

Laurence was startled by the directness of the question. His initial response was to acquiesce immediately, but he paused to consider. “You may, though I hope that I may refuse to answer after hearing it.” He cleared his throat and added, uncomfortably, “And that I might have the liberty of asking such a question in return?” 

She turned to examine him, and it seemed to Laurence that there was a hint of approval and amusement in her manner. She made him a graceful nod, which Laurence noted did not exactly answer either question, but he did not call her on it as he waited for the promised rude inquiry. 

“When might we expect the honor of your heat, Celestial Captain Laurence?”

If he had not already swallowed the mouthful of tea, he might have again been at risk of drowning in it. Laurence took his time with setting the cup back down and arranging it carefully on the table, examining the floral pattern as he worked through the immediate urge to simply get up and walk away. The collar felt abruptly tight at the thought of even admitting he _had_ a cycle. 

“Ah. That is. It will be some months yet, ma’am.” When she continued to stare at him expectantly, Laurence shifted on his cushion, cleared his throat twice, and said, “About five months by the Western calendar.” 

She nodded. “I see.” 

Having been thus exposed, Laurence struggled to compose his thoughts. He could not imagine a reason she would need to know his cycle that would not end poorly for him. Logic tried to assert that they would not throw him to an alpha when everything about his treatment so far had been nothing but respectful, even reverential. That did not preclude them pressuring him to ‘choose’ an alpha on his own, or waiting until he was in the depths of his cycle and ambushing him with one of their choosing. He wished, belatedly, that he’d thought to lie. He was adept at hiding the onset of his cycle, and Temeraire would certainly fly him to safety if he asked. 

“I have upset you,” Qian said. “Ask your question. Perhaps I may thus redeem myself.” 

“Ma’am,” Laurence said automatically, “there is no need for redemption, you merely caught me by surprise.”

She gave him a deep nod. “All the same.” 

“I had only wondered.” Laurence stopped and thought about his question. He may never have a better opportunity to get the information that Hammond needed, and yet, he was also unlikely to have an opportunity to ‘make a rude inquiry’ of Qian again. There were any number of questions pertaining to his own status and situation that he would like answered, and she had just brought up one of the foremost on his mind: what would they expect of him in regards to an alpha, if anything at all. 

Laurence let the notion pass. He might yet ask those questions of Li An Tien or Lord Li Chia-Hao. Even if he might not, he couldn’t put his personal concerns above that of their mission. Hammond had bombarded him with a dozen or more options on how to ask about the connection between the Chinese and the French, but they were all muddled in his head and none felt natural. 

Sitting up straight, Laurence asked, “I had wondered why Temeraire’s egg was sent to the French, ma’am, if it is so important to keep Celestial dragons in the Imperial family.” 

Qian considered him for several long moments. She flicked her tongue delicately at her tea, perhaps having a similar internal conversation to the one Laurence had run through himself. He wondered if she had expected him to ask about an alpha, had perhaps even asked after his heat with the expectation that he would ask in turn about what would be expected of him during his heat. He found himself very glad that he had not asked. If they did have such expectations of him, then he could perhaps avoid them through a lack of understanding. 

“Were you aware that your Lung Tien Xiang has an egg mate?” she asked. 

Laurence blinked. “I was not. Forgive my ignorance, ma’am, but can you explain what you mean by egg mate?” 

“I laid two eggs that day. Lung Tien Xiang and Lung Tien Chuan. My first son is the companion to Crown Prince Mianning.” 

“I see,” Laurence said, sensing that this answer was meant to convey more information to him than it did. He wanted to ask for additional clarification, but he did not see that he could without giving her further license to ask him more probing questions of her own. 

“As I have said before,” she continued, “it was only by the good sense of our emperor that Lung Tien Xiang’s egg came to your hands, and thereby he has found such a worthy companion.” 

Laurence felt a flush of heat over his cheeks, though he knew that the compliment had little to do with his own character and more to do with a quirk of his biology. He nonetheless renewed his gratitude and finished his tea, sensing that the interview had drawn to a natural conclusion. 

“I am afraid that we may need to convey you home tonight by some other means than in the company of your companion,” she said as he shifted to stand up. 

He froze, quickly thinking over their conversation again to ferret out what he might have done to turn her opinion, when she had twice indicated her approval, and once in public. He could think of nothing, and any event, her next words quite overwhelmed that worry with another. 

“Lung Tien Xiang has begun his cycle,” she explained. “He has gone into seclusion with the honorable Lung Qin Mei, and will likely not emerge for some time.”

“What?” Laurence asked blankly. 

“I confess that I am also surprised,” she said, not understanding the basis of his shock. “Lung Tien Chuan has not yet cycled, though he is the elder. Omegas normally present earlier, but Lung Tien Xiang has recently undergone much turmoil. I had wondered if you were perhaps nearing your own cycle, but that does not appear to be the case. Nonetheless, the signs are unmistakable.”

Laurence only gaped, mind buzzing. He should have taken Temeraire at his word, and further recognized in hindsight Temeraire’s recent heightened aggression and tendency toward sullenness. Laurence was often on edge and inclined toward fits of both anger and depression in the days leading up to his own cycle. 

“Do not be concerned,” Qian said, apparently noticing his distress. “This is only his first cycle. As time progresses, your cycles will naturally align.” 

“I see,” Laurence repeated mindlessly. He was absolutely blank with the idea that his cycle should send Temeraire into rut, and how, exactly, they should be expected to handle that in the field. Laurence could, and had retained command through a cycle many times. It was not comfortable, and he did not do so if it could be avoided, but it could not always be avoided. He had a sudden ludicrous fancy of what he should have done if the _Reliant_ had become as short tempered and aggressive as he was during a cycle, and nearly descended into a bout of inappropriate laughter. 

At least if he ever became wholly unreasonable, he could have handed the ship off to an officer and the situation may have been no worse for wear, but if _Temeraire_ were to become so unreasonable, there would be no salvaging it. 

“How are your studies progressing, Li Laurence Tien?” Qian asked, recalling him from his spiral into panic. 

Firmly telling himself not to borrow trouble, Laurence set the matter aside. He would need to discuss it with Granby so they might devise some strategy to dealing with it in any event. “I am afraid it has been many years since my schoolroom days,” he admitted. “I am not accustomed to this manner of study any longer, and I suspect that I am not quite up to the standards of my tutors.” 

“The pursuit of knowledge is a worthy one,” Qian said with a faint note of chastisement in her voice. “While I am sure your upbringing did not prepare you for such rigorous study, you must be diligent for Lung Tien Xiang’s sake, if not your own.” 

Laurence’s lips pressed together, at once prepared to defend his upbringing and his education, but the truth of the matter is that she was not incorrect. While he and his brothers had received the benefits of both a governess and private tutelage in a variety of subjects, Laurence had never applied himself to them with any great gusto, and he had been away to sea by the age of twelve. He had been lucky in his first captain, and had received a solid education both in matters pertaining to his profession and those required for an educated young gentleman. He had a solid foundation in the classics, and at least some knowledge in most topics that might arise as a gentlemen’s dinner table, but he had never applied himself to study at the level required by his current tutors, particularly considering that he was already at such a great disadvantage from the language barrier alone. 

“I will endeavor not to disappoint you, madam,” Laurence said, managing to keep his voice even.

“I am certain of that,” she said. It was a faintly ominous comment that Laurence chose to take on its face.

Fumbling his way through a farewell, Laurence made it back to his feet without embarrassing himself. His guards had kept well out of the way while he had been in conversation with Qian, but they hurried their steps to resume their normal positions on his either side and a few paces back. He took the path to the pavilion out of habit and arranged himself in his customary chair. 

Despite his promise to Qian, he found that his thoughts would not be still and kept straying back to Temeraire. Laurence’s first heat had been a nightmare of confusion and senseless panic. Temeraire had at least known that he was alpha beforehand, but Laurence had no idea if he had any notion of what that meant, or if he had been prepared in any way for a cycle. Laurence looked at his tutors when they spoke, and understood not a single word of the lesson, though he was conscious of making some responses that must have been at least no less incorrect than usual. 

When the sun began to sink, one of the quick little jade dragons approached the pavilion, freeing the frustrated tutors with a deep incline of her triangular head as she apologized profusely for interrupting the lesson. As grateful to escape the painful lessons as the tutors were, Laurence excused himself and stepped out from under the canvas. He massaged at his palm and thought briefly that the assassin might have at least done him the courtesy of stabbing him on his right side to free him from writing lessons.

“My deepest apologies, Celestial Captain Laurence,” she said again once he had stepped down to the grass. “This unworthy one has been ordered to see you conveyed safely home.”

Laurence hesitated. She was barely larger than a man herself, and he could not see how she would have the strength to carry a person aloft, but, when he nodded, she only executed a neat turn to lead him deeper into the garden. An Imperial that Laurence didn’t recognize was waiting in the last rays of the day’s sun, a dozen or so guards in Qian's livery already aboard and an elaborately decorated tent rigged between his shoulders. 

At their approach, the dragon lifted his head off the ground. He wore an attractive diadem of brass with chains that could have held a ship’s anchor draped down to loop under his chin. 

“May I present the honorable Lung Qin Zheng?” the jade dragon asked, bowing so deeply that her chest nearly touched the ground. 

Zheng tilted his head in acknowledgement, and Laurence made him a bow. Only the alarmed looks from the men aboard reminded him not to bow too deeply. He straightened up and took in the presence of the armed guards again. His own habitual minders were still trailing in his wake, but he had no idea if he could trust any of these men, or Zheng himself for that matter. He was cognizant of the fact that Yongxing had made at least one attempt on his life, assuming that those aboard ship had not been at his direct order.

“It is such a nice night,” Laurence said to the jade dragon. “Perhaps I might walk back to the villa.” 

She blinked her great eyes at him, and then glanced nervously to his pair of guards, and then up to Zheng. The Imperial appeared not to have any English and waited curiously for her to translate. When she had, he snorted demonstratively, the motion making the chains of his adornment clang like church bells. 

“Ah,” the jade dragon said. “Of course, should the Celestial Captain wish to do so, but if I may be so rude, it is a long distance by foot. We shall, of course, accompany you in any way you should desire.” 

Laurence stifled a frustrated noise. He was not confident that he could navigate his way through the city alone, and the flight was typically about thirty minutes. At Temeraire’s pace, that was a significant distance. He did feel that he would have more options to escape on the ground, but he did not at all intend to make a parade out of himself and his escort by walking blindly through the streets until he found some landmark. There was also his crew to consider. If he and Temeraire were absent so long, there was every chance that Granby would rally the crew into a search party and get themselves into trouble as a result. 

Being a target for assassination had turned him into quite the paranoid worrier. He huffed out a laugh at himself and nodded. Zheng rose at once, holding out his talon for Laurence. It felt curiously like he was committing an indiscretion as he climbed into a talon that was so like and yet not Temeraire’s. His bodyguards hovered behind him, apparently ready to risk having their hands removed over having him fall on his backside. They followed him once he was secure, and the three of them stepped out of Zheng’s talon and onto his shoulder. The assembled guards all bowed deeply, and remained so until Laurence had ducked into the tent for the short flight. 

The tent was intended to close entirely around him, but Laurence kept one corner of the opening pulled back so he could follow their progress. To his relief, they wheeled over the pavilion and turned toward the city proper. He recognized the skyline as they flew, and they started the descent about the same time that he would have expected with Temeraire. 

There was a great clamor of noise below them as they dropped into the courtyard. Xiaqing sat upright in obvious alarm, and the riflemen could be seen running for cover around the house. Laurence hurried out of the tent to wave them down before an accident on either side sparked off a conflict. He opened his mouth to request to be lowered down, but found Zheng’s talon already present. 

The jade dragon was in the courtyard making a respectful report to Li An Tien by the time Laurence stepped onto the cobblestones. Li An Tien nodded to her once she had finished, and turned his attention to Zheng. He exchanged a few words with the imperial, who responded in a deep, laconic voice that ended in a yawn. Laurence crossed to Li An Tien’s side and gave the courier his thanks. She bowed again, and then Zheng launched into the air, and she followed a moment later. 

“Lung Tien Xiang is somewhat young to have gone into a cycle,” Li An Tien said casually, though he kept his voice low enough that the crew would not overhear. 

“I was not even aware that dragons _did_ ,” Laurence said. “Or that… alphas do not. That is. Not without—”

“It is not the same with dragons, and Celestials are more unique still. A Celestial alpha does not require an omega in heat to go into rut,” Li An Tien said, rescuing him, though the plainness of his words struck a note of deep displeasure in his chest. “Though the nearness of my own cycle and his recent stress may have hastened the onset.” 

Laurence looked at him sharply. “You…?” 

Li An Tien nodded. “In perhaps a week, I believe. I did mean to discuss it with you.” 

Laurence felt his stomach twist. “You do not owe me an explanation of any kind when it comes to… to that. What may we do to. That is. To ensure your comfort?” Laurence asked, so swamped with such extreme discomfort of his own that he might have drowned on it. 

Li An Tien's smile was, for once, purely created of joy. “We shall speak on it later. For the moment, Lung Tien Xiang’s absence does place us in some danger. If there was going to be a more perfect time for your enemies to launch an attack, I cannot easily think of one. Lung Tien Xiang will likely be indisposed for at least the next three days. However, the first cycle is unpredictable, particularly as it is so early. He may emerge as early as tomorrow morning, or may be under for a week.”

“That is a worrying wide range,” Laurence said, frowning. “But it does mean that if any significant effort were to be made, it would necessarily need to be made tonight or early tomorrow.” 

Li An Tien nodded. “I agree. Without more concrete proof of a threat, I can not request assistance, either from our clan or the palace. Doing so would seem to cast doubt on the prince’s ability to provide for our protection. There is time to get all your crew aboard and escape.” 

Laurence cast a glance at Xiaqing and considered the option. He did not like the notion that they would flee from an attack, but remaining served no purpose. They were not defending territory or people, and remaining for such a conflict would only assure needless bloodshed on both sides. Too, there was the concern of Temeraire. When he emerged from his seclusion, he would certainly return to the estate first. If he found it abandoned, there was no telling what he might do in response. 

“If there is no attack, and we have been found to have abandoned the villa?”

“It is a risk,” Li An Tien agreed. “The political repercussions could be severe. However, to pay a visit to the estate of your own clan would not be unusual. We could defend the argument, at least for a night.” 

“I do not wish to place your family in any greater jeopardy,” Laurence said, shaking his head. “And this place is defensible as it is. In truth, if there is going to be an attack, I would rather have it out in the open than continue to have it remain as a threat in the shadows. You, of course, must take your own men and go.” 

Li An Tien made a sound that was not far removed from a draconic snort. It startled Laurence so badly that he reared back and stared. The other omega sighed in equal parts exasperation and a kind of affection that Laurence did not think he had earned. 

“I understand that the position you have been forced into is not one you find comfortable, but that does not change the fact that you are now of my clan. More than that, you are my own junior, and I am responsible for your safety and education. I certainly will not leave you here alone, and truly, the dishonor of doing so would be very nearly a death sentence on its own merit.” 

“My God,” Laurence exclaimed, horrified. “Why have you not told me this until now?” 

“I admit, at first I thought it should have been self evident. In more recent days, I have come to realize that your reaction would be exactly as it is. You are a dear creature, my Laurence Tien," he said with obvious amusement. 

Dumbstruck for the second time that day, Laurence could only stare at him. Li An Tien had been both gracious and kind, but Laurence had known their relationship to be politically motivated. He had not looked for, nor expected, any kind of personal connection. He was also uncertain of the last time he had been called a ‘dear creature,’ and certainly never by another gentleman. 

Entirely at a loss, he let the address pass unremarked in favor of more pressing concerns. “Mr. Granby! Tell the men that we are on alert for a potential attack and set up a watch.”

"I have done, sir," Granby said, jogging over to them. "The guards who normally patrol outside have all gone in the last few minutes." 

"It cannot be long now, then. Get barricades set up in that main hall and have an inventory done of our available shot." He turned to Li An Tien and said, "I pray you take no offense, but I must have the collar off if there will be a fight."

Nodding, Li An Tien issued a few orders of his own, and then turned and gestured for Laurence to follow. In Laurence's room, he opened the box for the collar and assisted Laurence in removing it. While Laurence stripped out of the fine jacket and waistcoat, he opened a drawer and turned with a length of brocade cloth in hand. 

Laurence gave him a withering look, but Li An Tien held it up insistently. "You should be sleeping in it," he said when Laurence did not immediately present himself for it. The soft collar was secured about his throat, and then Li An Tien surprised him by removing his own collar and draping it gently over Laurence's in the box. Laurence had never seen his throat bare, and it now seemed oddly indecent. He looked away while Li An Tien tied another length of cloth about his own neck. 

They left the room together, forging into the tumult of battle preparations. 


	9. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very long one this time! Sorry, there was not a better place to break it up. >.<

If they’d had fewer men, Laurence would have abandoned the house for the pavilion, but the Li guards and even the servants presented themselves immediately for orders. Li An Tien translated aptly, and made suggestions where Laurence’s knowledge of their abilities and training was lacking. The guardsmen were equipped with bows in addition to their swords, and well-stocked with arrows. Long, wickedly pointed spears were handed out among the Li servants after the entrance to the house had been thoroughly barricaded to funnel any incoming attack into a narrow corridor. 

Tables and chairs, roughly hacked down and lashed together, were set up in a shield at the back of the corridor, protecting a rear door that would allow them access to the walled garden and the pond in back. The corridor could only support four men abreast, and Laurence had arranged for twelve to take the post in three rows. A second contingent of mostly Li guardsmen under Li An Tien’s lieutenant had been placed in the pavilion to prevent anyone from getting into the garden behind them with the massive bulk of the dragon couch for a bulwark. With bowmen on the wall and Xiaqing in the courtyard, they were better prepared for an assault than Laurence could have hoped for, and the villa took on an oppressive air of waiting. 

They were all so keyed up in anticipation of the attack that it was almost anticlimactic when, just past midnight, a massive red dragon came barrelling out of the darkness with claws outstretched toward Lung Qin Xiaqing’s back. She had stretched out in the courtyard as she would have after a meal on any normal night, seemingly asleep with all the house quiet around her.

As the scarlet dragon approached, the riflemen who had been posted on her back threw the dark blankets off and fired into the dragon’s exposed belly. He roared in pain and surprise, diverting at the last moment and ending up rolling wing-over-wing through the decorative garden. Men came screaming through the gate as Xiaqing pounced on the surprised dragon, the riflemen jumping off to get out from between their claws and retreating to the pavilion.

From the top of the wall, the Li guards leapt up with bows already nocked and drawn, firing down into the unprotected backs of the intruders. Several went down at once, fouling their fellows and creating chaos, but there were dozens of them, well-armed and already rushing up the stairs to the house. The guards would be badly exposed once enough of the attackers broke through that they could afford to scale the wall while the defenders were occupied. 

Laurence could not see Xiaqing and the other dragon from his position, but he heard her cry out in pain, and then the roar turned to anger. At his side, Li An Tien was tight with anxiety, as Laurence would have been himself if it had been Temeraire going into a fight without the benefit of any crew. It had been Xiaging herself who had forbid any crew, even her own companion, far preferring that Li An Tient remain in the relative safety of the barricades and the guards remain to protect them. 

Laurence ordered the remaining rifles to fire off a volley to give the bowmen enough cover to get around the wall to the roof of the house. The first wave of attackers went down like ninepins and gave them enough breathing room to reload. A moment later, there were several loud thumps above their heads as the bowmen got into their new positions. The shape of the roof would protect them from retaliation, but it would also limit their effectiveness to longer distance only. If their opponents had a lick of sense between them, they would take cover under the eves, where the bowmen would be unable to get a shot, but it would force the attacking party to concentrate their efforts on the house, rather than the more open pavilion. 

The great crash of dragons fighting continued. At Laurence’s side, Li An Tien tensed with every sound. He had exchanged his heavy robes for a set of Granby’s clothing, which was ludicrously long and loose on him, and had tied his hair back in a knot. He looked strange in the unfamiliar garb, and stranger yet with the sword at his hip and long spear in his hands, but when one man sprang down the corridor while the riflemen were reloading, Li An Tien leapt forward with surprising alacrity. The attacker bounced off the walls with such speed and agility that Laurence could hardly track him. He would have been over their heads in another moment, but Li An Tien caught him midair with a blow from the staff, driving him back. Li An Tien took a hard kick a breath later that sent him staggering backward, but he recovered quickly, ducking down and spinning out with one leg to catch his opponent at the ankle. His attacker hit the tiled floor and stayed down just long enough for Dunn to skewer him through with his bayonet. 

Laurence rushed forward to get a grip on Li An Tien’s shoulders and drag him back to safety before another wave of attackers could muster outside the door. He gave Dunn a solid clap to the shoulder as they retreated behind the line of rifles to the Li guards with their long spears. Li An Tien was clearly shaken, and Laurence urged him to sit against the wall to regain his breath. 

“I have never had to do that with someone who meant to kill me,” Li An Tien said ruefully into the brief silence following the crack of the guns. He put a hand to his chest and rubbed at his sternum where a clear footprint was visible on the front of the shirt. His cloth collar had come loose in the fray and Laurence reached up to tighten the knot. 

Li An Tien looked up at him with a start, but said nothing. He accepted Laurence’s hand to get back to his feet and took up his staff again. “I recognize the clothing,” he said gesturing to the corpse of his opponent. “These men are Hun-Hun. It’s a prominent gang that has recently been causing trouble. By all accounts, they are a large force; well-armed, and well-trained. We will be in for a lengthy fight, I am afraid.” 

Laurence nodded grimly. It was too much to expect that they might have been dealing with only a dozen men expecting an easy mark. “We are as prepared as we can be, and in a better position than we would have been without you and Lung Qin Xiaqing.” 

Outside, Xiaqing roared again, and they caught a brief flash of color as the red dragon went tumbling across the courtyard, knocking attackers aside where they weren’t crushed whole. A moment later, Xiaqing followed, and they heard the distinctive sound of both dragons lifting into the air. 

Li An Tien stared out the door anxiously. “I do hope she does not allow herself to be drawn too far away.” 

Laurence said nothing in response, but he knew well how inclined Temeraire would be to turn back if he had been successfully baited out into a fight. He didn’t think the odds were good that she would resist the lure, particularly if she was as untested in a fight as Li An Tien appeared to be. 

Another wave of attackers poured in, and there was no more time for conversation. The rifles cracked off a round, and then stepped quickly back to reload as more men came screaming into the entryway, crude weapons raised above their heads. In one steady motion, the Li men knelt down and brought up their spears, bracing the ends against the floor and leaning their weight on them. Their surprise and momentum carried the onrushing attackers directly onto the points of the spears, and the weight of their fellows pushed them down the hafts so that one of the spears skewered two men before it tilted sideways under the weight. Granby and Laurence stepped forward with Dunn and Griggs to shove the bodies off the spears and meet the swords of the men behind. 

They were so crowded in the corridor that there was no real swordsmanship involved. Laurence found himself locked hilt-to-hilt with another man, neither able to do more than shove the other. The man’s eyes flicked to his throat and then widened. He called something over the general din and the weight increased as more men struggled toward Laurence, hands reaching over his opponent’s shoulders to grab at him. At his feet, Dyer was crouched and stabbing indiscriminately at the legs and feet of any who made it over the barricade, causing a great confusion of dancing and shouting, men spilling back over the barricade to trip their comrades, even as more pushed forward. 

“Spears!” Laurence called. The great spears had been hastily withdrawn to prevent them from being hacked off, but with the line held at a standstill, it was easy enough for the spearmen to thread the slender shafts between the defenders’ bodies and ram forward. 

Li An Tien leaned against Laurence’s back and slammed a wickedly sharp blade in his opponent’s neck. The man jolted, and then gurgled as the blade was withdrawn. Blood fountained out, soaking Laurence, Granby, and Li An Tien at once. The man slumped forward, sword dropping out of his hand and weight coming down on Laurence’s shoulder. 

With Li An Tien’s help, he heaved the man back, and the attack broke, those in the back ranks grabbing any of their fellows who were still alive and retreating to the courtyard. 

Panting for breath, Laurence wiped the blood out of his eyes. Li An Tien made a strange moaning noise, and then vanished, running into the garden. Laurence heard his miserable retching over the shouts of the men at the pavilion, still fending off their first string of attackers. No one in the line said anything when he returned. He had the hem of the borrowed shirt in both hands, doing his best to clean the worst of the blood from his face. 

Under the shirt, his skin was porcelain pale and, Laurence was surprised to notice, his stomach corded with muscle. Granby reached over to give Dunn a solid smack on the back. The rifleman jumped guilty and turned to face the door once more, several of Li An Tien’s own men hurriedly doing the same, faces red with embarrassment where they weren’t red with blood. 

Laurence offered Li An Tien the water, holding the base of the jug to help steady it as it shook in Li An Tien’s hands. 

“Forgive me,” Li An Tien said softly, not meeting Laurence’s eyes. 

“There is not a thing to forgive,” Laurence told him, squeezing his shoulder. 

Kneeling down next to them, Hammond offered them both a wet cloth, and then said, “Hand me your pistols, Captain, I will reload.” 

Outside, Laurence could hear their attackers chanting and putting up a great fuss of clapping and stomping. He handed his pistols to Hammond and took a firm grip on his cutlass. Li An Tien handed the jug off the Roland to be refilled and then accepted Laurence’s hand to stand.

~*~

The sun was a watery promise on the horizon when the thunder of an approaching dragon put an abrupt halt to the attack. The entryway was so slick with blood that they were all having trouble keeping their footing, and the bodies of the dead had been stacked up four-deep in some places. Laurence was ready to drop from exhaustion, and Li An Tien looked like he might already be unconscious with his eyes open. He was soaked in blood, the fine brocade of his cloth collar nearly invisible under it. 

Laurence tried to find a dry place on his breeches to wipe his sword hand clean. The best he could manage was his inner thigh, and he didn’t even bother to feel embarrassed about being seen to do it. He took a firmer grip on his cutlass and turned to put himself shoulder-to-shoulder with Granby in the line. Li An Tien was slumped down the wall behind them, though starting to stir even as they waited for the next wave of fresh attackers. 

A moment later, a familiar face peeked briefly around the corner, and then ducked back to avoid any shots. He probably would have gotten a bullet to the forehead for his efforts, but they had run out of shot hours before and had been reduced to increasingly messy sword and bayonet work. Laurence stared at the corner the man had ducked around, trying to place where he had seen him before.

“Li Laurence Tien!” A pair of hands appeared around the corner, and then the rest of the man came cautiously back around. “Li Laurence Tien!” 

“That is my sitter,” Laurence said nonsensically. 

“Your... your _what_ , sir?” Granby asked. His voice was roughed from smoke—the enemy had once attempted to smoke them out into the open, and they were all similarly hoarse with it. 

Laurence wiped a hand roughly down his face. He was momentarily stymied by the piles of corpses between him and his bodyguard. The other bodyguard appeared a moment later, and they both stared in open shock at the bodies choking the corridor. Once they were apparently reasonably certain that no one was going to open fire at them, the second guard turned around to wave behind him. More came through in Qian’s livery, picking their way quietly and cautiously through the piles of the dead. 

“That’s close enough,” Laurence called hoarsely. “State your intentions.” 

They did stop, but only exchanged glances, looking up and down their own line, apparently searching for someone who understood English well enough to respond. Laurence felt a tug on his fingers and looked down to see Li An Tien struggling to get up. Sheathing his sword, Laurence reached over with his opposite hand to use Granby as an anchor as he pulled Li An Tien up. 

The other omega collapsed against his shoulder for a moment before straightening. He wearily translated Laurence’s challenge, and then listened for the response. 

“They arrived to deliver Lung Tien Qian’s invitation this morning and found the last of our attackers fleeing Prince Yongxing’s guards. Apparently, they are absolutely outraged to have returned after their training exercise to find such a scene,” he reported, though he was too tired to make even a passing effort at delivering the news with any hint of belief in the words. 

He did not wait for Laurence’s answer, but turned and addressed the guards again. Whatever answer they made in response earned a shaky sigh of relief from Li An Tien. He nodded once, and then again before saying, “Xiaqing has returned and is uninjured.” 

Laurence felt his own sweep of relief at the news. Xiaqing had been absent most of the night, and they had all worried for her. At Li An Tien’s order, the guards came forward, clearing a path for their fellows. All around them, the joint force of the aviators and the Li clan members were releasing weapons and hitting the floor. Somewhere behind him, he heard a man weeping, but he did not turn around to see who it was. 

Their grisly bulwark was dismantled, and the new arrivals were quick to support the tired defenders out of the slaughter, but Laurence’s bodyguards stopped once they were through, looking at him carefully, waiting. 

“I suppose you gentlemen would not like your hands removed,” Laurence muttered. He jostled Li An Tien to get his attention. 

Li An Tien roused enough to give the guards an order. Both guardsmen immediately rushed forward to support them. Laurence was happy enough to lean on their shoulders as they abandoned the bloody corridor for the early morning light. Without discussion, they were steered away from the carnage to the shade of a pair of still-standing pines. Laurence made an automatic protest to being set on the ground, knowing perfectly well that he wasn’t getting back up under his own power if he did, but he turned his head to a flash of black hide.

“Temeraire!” he called up, and then stopped. It was not Temeraire but Xiaqing, sprawled out in obvious exhaustion herself. 

Already propped against the dragon’s forearm, Li An Tien murmured something, turning slightly to throw one arm, childlike, up on Xiaqing’s hide. Laurence felt a pang of worry, but he remembered that Temeraire would be in his cycle for days yet. It may have felt like a week, but it had been only a single night. His helper made a shushing noise as he lowered Laurence to Li An Tien’s side, close enough that he could feel Li An Tien’s chest rise with his breath. All around him, his men were being set to the ground as well, people already leaning over them to check for wounds. Laurence had a thought that he should get up to ask about Temeraire, but was asleep a moment later. 

When he next woke, the sun had moved above the horizon, and the destroyed garden was swarming with imperial guards. He blinked up at the sun, trying to place where he was and why. His skin was tight and itchy, and he was uncomfortably hot. He heard a small snuffling breath beside him and looked down to see Roland and Dyer curled up together on the grass at his hip. On his other side, Li An Tien was still dead to the world, and just beyond his feet was Hammond, sprawled out and snoring. 

Laurence surveyed the four of them while he tried to force some energy into his limbs. Hammond had surprised him as much as Li An Tien during the fight, and the children had born up to the fight with remarkable courage. All of the crew had, and he would have to write them commendations as soon as he had any strength in his hands. The first of his obligations would be a letter to poor young Thellow’s family. He had been killed by a spear thrown wildly from the door, the point taking him in the throat with such force that it had pinned him to the wall. He had thankfully died within moments of being pulled down, so he had at least not suffered. Laurence knew it would be a long time before the memory of Thellow’s eyes locked onto his and pleading through his tears faded. 

He shifted his weight forward, wincing at the sticky pull of his shirt separating from his back, and possibly taking a layer of skin with it. Li An Tien moaned in his sleep, cuddling closer to Xiaqing’s side, but didn’t wake. Laurence managed after three attempts to get to his feet, though he nearly went back down when his left leg seized up in protest. He saved himself the fall by virtue of a drunken weave to a decorative boulder, only just barely managing to avoid stepping on Hammond in the process.

While he was getting himself under control, his bodyguards came around the side of the house. Upon seeing him, they both rushed forward, but then stopped short. Laurence tried to remember what Li An Tien had said to them the night before, but only recalled a garble of syllables and an imperative. He really was a very poor student. Turning to put his back to the rock, he pointed to his own chest. 

“William Laurence.” They stared at him in confusion until he turned his hand around and pointed at them in turn. 

The older of the two straightened up to say, “Yong Feiyu.” He turned to his partner and said, “Zhu Lian.” 

Laurence nodded to them both, feeling all the pettiness of having never asked for their names before. He had been resentful of their presence and had tried as much as anything to act as though they simply did not exist, and now felt acutely ashamed of himself for it. He repeated their names, and then managed a very deliberate expression of gratitude in Chinese. 

From Zhu Lian’s wince, he had gotten something wrong, but they obviously understood enough to catch his meaning. They both bowed deeply. Laurence tested his legs again and found them up to bearing his weight, at least so far as getting himself to a basin of water and a clean change of clothing. 

Yong Feiyu and Zhu Lian followed at a cautious distance. Ruefully, Laurence admitted that he would need to apply himself with more rigor to his language lessons. He could not continue to rely on having someone else nearby always to be his translator, and he could no longer afford to be recalcitrant with the lessons out of spite. 

Laurence made it all the way to his room and had dismissed the two men with a tired wave before he realized that he didn’t have water to bathe. Laurence was just considering the merits of striping to the skin and going back to sleep on the floor when there was a series of taps at the door. 

He opened it to find Li An Tien weaving unsteadily on his feet with two servants behind him laden down with buckets of steaming water and fine porcelain basins. Laurence stepped aside to let the other omega in, and they both stood quietly out of the way to allow their bath to be set up on the corner. 

“Don’t sit,” Laurence warned when Li An Tien shuffled for a chair.

Li An Tien looked down as though he’d just noticed he was covered in dry, flaking blood. “Of course.” 

“I mean only that your muscles will lock up. It would be best if you moved around to keep them warm for a while yet.” 

Li An Tien gave him a look that was too tired to be hateful, but Laurence still caught the message. He gave Li An Tien plenty of warning as he reached up to help him unlace his borrowed shirt. Li An Tien stared down at his hands, swaying just enough to bump into Laurence’s knuckles at irregular intervals. He flinched away as pieces of the fabric stuck to his skin, but was awake enough to accept a warm cloth and start cleaning the blood off himself by the time Laurence had him out of the shirt. It had been so soaked with blood that it retained the shape of his body when Laurence dropped it in a corner, and he made a note to apologize to Granby for the loss and see about a replacement. For that matter, all of the men would likely need to be outfitted with new clothing between the blood and the smoke. 

They washed up in silence and redressed in similar silence. This, at least, was almost familiar, Li An Tien’s hands smoothing down the lapel of his jacket, and then reaching up to fasten the glittering collar around his neck. When Li An Tien turned for his own collar, Laurence stepped in to take it from his hands. Li An Tien stared at him wide-eyed, but ducked his head and reached back to pull his hair away so Laurence could fasten the clasp. 

“Now that we are decent enough to be seen in public, shall we see what can be salvaged of this mess?” 

Down in the courtyard, Granby was up and getting the men organized. He had a headcount ready for Laurence before he even asked. Their casualty list was blessedly short at only Thellows, though the Li retainers had taken heavier losses with three dead. Off to his left, Li An Tien was receiving a similar report, and his grief was plain to see as he surveyed the aftermath of the battle. Their dead had been laid out shoulder-to-shoulder in the shade of an undamaged wall, draped in white sheets. On the other side of the courtyard, the enemy dead were being treated less gently, though no less neatly. 

Laurence turned to see the hallway that had been their bottleneck. The bodies had been removed, but the blood had stained the floor a permanent russet. Even at that range, the stench was strong enough to make his stomach turn.

A flutter of wings pulled his attention finally away from the bloody corridor, and he looked up just in time to see a jade dragon landing in the narrow space between the rows of bodies. He took in the carnage with a sweep of his eyes, but made no comment before bowing low and offering a scroll to Li An Tien. 

Laurence moved back to Li An Tien’s side, but the letter was not the invitation to Qian’s pavilion that he had grown used to reading. The seal on the bottom was not known to him either, so he stood back to wait for a translation. 

“Crown Prince Mianning has invited us to his home in light of last night’s shameful attack,” Li An Tien told him. He seemed relieved to deliver this news, where he had been mildly concerned about Qian’s invitation. “How quickly can your crew be prepared to leave?”

“Fifteen minutes, generally. After last night's battle, perhaps give them thirty.” 

Li An Tien nodded and turned to address the captain of his guard. Laurence waved Granby over. 

“John, forgive me for asking so much of you, but we must be packed up to go as quickly as we may.”

Granby scratched at his still-blood caked neck. “I can’t say that any of us will be sad to leave this place behind after last night. I don’t suppose we might not burn it down behind us, sir?” he asked, obviously too tired to mind his tongue. 

Laurence clapped a hand on his shoulder. If anyone had earned a little leeway with propriety, it had been Granby. “I will not turn around if I smell smoke, Mr. Granby.” 

Granby snorted, but he turned and started issuing orders to get the tired aviators moving.

~*~

For the short flight to the prince's estate, Xiaqing had agreed to go under harness again. The last of Laurence's injured crew were just being loaded into the belly netting when a shadow passed over the sun and Zheng spiraled down into the courtyard. 

He and Xiaqing touched noses. Between his concern for Temeraire and his preoccupation with potential assassination threats, Laurence had not realized how large Zheng was the night before. Seeing him now compared to Xiaqing, who was only perhaps a little smaller than Temeraire, Laurence could not help but notice. He had a similar conformation to other Imperials, but was much broader in the chest and had heavily built rear haunches so that Laurence guessed he would be closer to Maximus' weight than Temeraire's. In the bright sunlight, Laurence could see that Zheng was not actually pure black, but rather a very deep shade of blue with an attractive pattern of lighter blue spots clustered around his tail and fanning over his sides.

Zheng reached up to let one man in military dress down. Li An Tien strode quickly across the courtyard to meet him. The man knelt swiftly, though his knee had hardly touched the bloody stones before he was rising again. Laurence was deeply shocked when he reached out immediately to take both of Li An Tien's hands in his. Granby had drilled the message of not touching an omega so deeply into the men that Laurence heard several gasps behind him as he moved to investigate.

As he came closer, the stranger turned to look at him, and Laurence experienced a second shock. He drew up immediately, firming his jaw and clenching his fists at his sides. The man was an alpha. 

Li An Tien turned to look at him, mouth already open to speak. He paused, expression briefly going quizzical, and then clearing. He said, "Celestial Captain Laurence, this is my elder brother, Li Jian."

Li Jian knelt again. He remained on one knee with hands clasped out in front of his chest, head bowed to say, "This unworthy one has failed to answer Lady Qian's charge to see to your safety. I ask no forgiveness and will accept any punishment you deem fit."

Laurence looked to Li An Tien with his eyebrow raised in inquiry.

"My brother is companion to the honorable Lung Qin Zheng," Li An Tien explained, though he did not seem the least concerned that Laurence might assign a punishment of any sort. 

"I see," Laurence said. He did not remember the man from the night before, and wondered uncomfortably if he could have truly missed an alpha so close to him. 

"I was indisposed and unable to accompany my companion in escorting you home last night."

"I do not see how this is any fault of yours. Pray rise," Laurence said at last, repressing a trembling fear as the man climbed back to his feet. Laurence cleared his throat. "As far as I am aware, your companion was charged only with seeing me safely back to the company of my party, which was done. I do not hold you or him responsible for last night's attack."

"You are too kind, Celestial One." He turned again to his brother. "I have come to escort you to Prince Mianning's palace. Prince Yongxing is currently engaged in a route of the Hun-Hun gang and there may be fighting in the streets."

Li An Tien nodded. "We are just now ready to depart. You have our gratitude, alpha."

"Myself and my companion would be honored to convey you hence, Celestial Captain Laurence," Li Jian said, addressing Laurence once more with both arms held out as though he might carry Laurence to his dragon bodily. 

Laurence schooled his expression in hopes that his mingled offense and horror at the idea of being carried like some fragile bride did not show on his face. 

"Thank you, sir, but I beg to be excused. I can hardly be expected to part from my crew under the circumstances," he said stiffly, and then added with forced conviction and a glance to Li An Tien, "Or to leave the side of my senior." If one argument would not do, the other should suffice. 

Li An Tien gave him a smile that was both amused and approving, while Li Jian only nodded and dropped his arms. He offered them a respectful bow before backing away several paces, and then turning to leap back into Zhang's talon. 

"I hope I have not caused any offense," Laurence said, though he was not entirely sure he did not mean exactly the opposite. The notion was so contrary to his character that he was forced to examine the impulse more closely as Li An Tien reassured him that he had acted properly. They returned to Xiaqing's side and were lifted to her shoulder, where Laurence found his officers pointedly not looking at him. He exchanged a nod with Granby, and then locked himself onto the harness. 

Xiaqing sprang aloft first, and then Zheng rose behind them, his greater bulk casting them in shadow. Laurence did not turn to see if he could identify Li Jian on Zhang's back, but nonetheless felt a prickling, irritated awareness of the alpha. Intellectually, he was aware that he had no reason to distrust Li Jian, and indeed that he was Li An Tien's brother made him perhaps more trustworthy than an unrelated captain.

And yet… and yet, he was an alpha. Over half of Laurence's life had been filled with the awareness that someone like Li Jian could strip him of his freedom, his very personhood, and it was difficult to set that concern aside, even in the face of a wholly different reality. 

Laurence set aside the thought for future examination and turned enough to call back, “Mr. Hammond?”

Hammond, seated some short distance down Xiaqing’s back, looked up at him. For as desperate as the man had been for his attention over the last weeks, he was very obviously reluctant to look up at Laurence then. When Laurence called him forward, he looked even more miserable, and Laurence remembered, too late, the man’s terrible motion sickness. Nevertheless, before Laurence could retract his invitation, he gamely, if shakily, extended his straps to their full length and walked himself very slowly up the harness. The crew took pity on him after a few painful moments of the struggle and helped him to clip and unclip his caribeneers until he was just behind Laurence and able to secure himself once more. 

“My apologies, Mr. Hammond,” Laurence said when he was settled. “There has been so much chaos since my last visit to Lung Tien Qian’s pavilion that I have not been able to share the most recent intelligence.”

At this, Hammond seemed to forget his misery in the flight and sat up straighter, adjusting his glasses on his face to give Laurence an eager look. “Yes? Were you able to ascertain why Temeraire’s egg was sent to the French?”

Li An Tien looked over to them curiously, but did not interrupt as Laurence gave an uncertain nod.

“Of a sort. I was able to ask the question, but I am afraid I was not able to interpret the answer to any useful degree. I was informed only that Temeraire has a brother - a twin, of sorts, what Lady Qian referred to as an ‘egg mate,’ who is currently companion to the Crown Prince.” 

Hammond sputtered. “But—but—but! My God, Captain! That is! Oh, it makes such perfect sense! It was never about the French at all!” he declared, his response providing no further illumination to Laurence in the slightest. From Qian, he could have hardly expected better, but he was somewhat frustrated by the response in one of his own countrymen and a member of his party. 

“I might provide some enlightenment,” Li An Tien offered when Hammond fell to muttering to himself with only the occasional outburst of “Of course!” to break his hissing and thigh-slapping. “Celestial dragons are, as you are aware, reserved only to the Imperial family. While there is no requirement that an emperor have a Celestial as companion, it is considered… unlucky not to, as a sign that Heaven has not bestowed its blessing. Similarly, any member of the Imperial family with a Celestial as companion may be seen to be a viable candidate for the throne.” 

Finally, realization dawned. “Being of the same age, Temeraire as companion to another prince would set up a potential rivalry for the throne. As a newly-minted Emperor himself, Napoleon made a viable alternative, keeping Temeraire well out of reach of the throne while also still ensuring that he was companion to an emperor.”

Li An Tien nodded. “Just so.”

“And what, pray tell, would you have done if Napoleon had shown up on your doorstep with a Celestial dragon in tow, claiming that Heaven had blessed him so well that he deserved your throne on top of his own?” Laurence asked dryly.

Far from being offended, Li An Tien’s eyes crinkled up in approval. “What an excellent thought exercise. I will be certain to present it to Court at my next opportunity.” 

“That is one mystery solved at least,” Laurence said, relaxing against the straps of his harness. He reached up to prod at the barely-healed wound. The fighting had exacerbated the injury, and it ached abominably for all that it had not broken open again. Several other knicks and cuts had been bandaged roughly during the fight, and more neatly during his abbreviated bath, but somehow they did not ache as much for all that they were fresh. 

When he looked up, he found Li An Tien eyeing him and quickly dropped his hand to rest in his lap. Despite the wind, Li An Tien sat cross-legged, and managed to look both serene and untouched, even with his long hair pulling out of its top knot to whip around his face. Laurence, sitting back on his heels as was his custom during short flights, likely looked more like an overdressed toad. He smiled at the image and dropped back further, struggling to cross his legs in his far more restrictive breeches. He apparently made such a sight doing it that Li An Tien was unable to resist laughing at him, though he at least had the grace to hide his laughter behind his sleeve. 

Behind and off to Laurence’s right, Granby was not so delicate and laughed aloud, prompting the rest of the crew to do the same. Laurence affected not to notice. The men deserved a good laugh after the night they’d had. 

~*~

The crown prince’s palace was a sprawling compound of low buildings clustered about a central building of four stories with tiled roofs sweeping out from each. Many of the outbuildings were walled off from the rest with high walls containing elegant gardens, and Laurence guessed that they were additional private residences of Mianning’s family. Xiaqing followed Zheng down into the central courtyard, where they were greeted by a dozen liveried servants ready to unpack them. They swarmed Xiaqing with such speed that Laurence was mildly surprised they were all still clothed by the time their feet hit the courtyard stones. 

A man in the green garb of an official bowed to Li An Tien and Laurence as they approached and led them immediately into the central building. A glance back showed that Laurence’s crew and the Li household were being shuffled off in another direction, several physicians in pale smocks already descending on the wounded as they were lowered carefully from the belly netting. 

“Stay one step behind me and do as I do,” Li An Tien cautioned. “We are being taken to see the crown prince. He is our patron and a friend of our clan.” 

Already heartily sick of princes, Laurence could only swallow back a noise of displeasure and do as Li An Tien had advised, slowing his steps until there was a healthy stride of space between them. The prince’s home was an elegant affair of darkly polished wood and carefully curated decoration. Some walls were entirely blank, the better to frame the windows and their fine views, while others contained alcoves featuring handsome vases or other artworks, and one long stretch of wall was graced with a subtle mural of black dragons rolling through curling white clouds above misted mountains.

The official brought them to a modest audience chamber and announced them in a strident, nasal voice. The room’s sole occupant, a man of perhaps twenty who was presumably Crown Prince Mianning, looked up from his work and nodded. Laurence watched Li An Tien for his cue to make a bow, and then to sit beside him at the low table set opposite Mianning. Laurence noted that there was a short dias at one end of the room, but the prince’s desk had evidently been moved down on the floor so they were separated by only a few feet. 

They exchanged formal greetings, Laurence fumbling to repeat Li An Tien in his turn. He suspected that Li An Tien had deliberately spoken slowly to assist him in this effort. Formalities concluded, both men relaxed, and Mianning turned to address Laurence in perfectly clear English. 

“I am glad to see you well, Celestial Captain Laurence.”

“You are kind to say so, your majesty,” Laurence replied automatically, though he privately thought that Mianning, or his father, could have been doing much more to assure his overall health since he had arrived in China. He wondered if he had managed to pass some test that now allowed the prince to intercede in the mostly silent war taking place virtually under his nose where he had been unable to do so the day before. 

“My uncle is currently driving out those who perpetrated the attack on your safe house last night. I understand that he is doing a very thorough job.” 

“Curiously, his men were conveniently absent from their normal posts last night, or they may have done a yet more thorough job and saved lives besides.”

Mianning’s lips twitched. “Indeed. Though I understand that your crew and clansmen have done admirably in their regrettable absence.” 

“Necessity makes innovators of us all, Highness.”

Mianning set his brush aside to pick up his cup and take a sip of his tea. At a gentle prod from Li An Tien, Laurence picked up his own and set it to his lips, though he did not do more than wet them before putting it back down. Considering how stalled they had been in seeking a royal audience, he didn’t know when he would have an opportunity for such a discussion again. He meant to get what information he could out of the prince before he was sent back to cool his heels any further. 

“Your Highness, has there been any word of Temeraire?” 

“Lung Tien Xiang remains in seclusion with the honorable Lung Qin Mei. Guards have been posted to ensure that he is undisturbed, and they have instructions to inform you immediately once he emerges.”

“I appreciate that. Once he does emerge, when might an audience be arranged with the emperor? The king’s representative among my party, a Mr. Hammond, is most anxious to begin the work of diplomacy between our nations.” 

Li An Tien jolted subtly, and Mianning tipped his head sideways to examine Laurence. Defying Hammond’s strict orders, Laurence met his eyes baldly and did not demure or retract his request.

“Do you consider yourself so removed from my nation?” Mianning asked. “You sit here in the collar of the Li clan, having been adopted by them.”

“I am grateful to Li An Tien and the Li clan for the honor bestowed upon me,” Laurence said, keeping his expression carefully blank. “But I am, first and foremost, an officer of His Majesty’s Aerial Corps and an Englishman.”

“Even though that same government would make you in all but name a slave for that very thing by which the Li clan has so honored you?”

Laurence clenched his teeth against a heated response, recognizing that the comment had cut perilously close to the quick. “Loyalty cannot be based on convenience, Your Highness.”

“You are refreshingly plain, Captain Laurence,” Mianning said finally, causing Li An Tien to let out a shallow, relieved breath. “I cannot say when such an audience may be arranged, nor would I say that it would necessarily be advantageous to your cause when my uncle still has my father’s ear, regardless of how he imperils that relationship now.” 

The prince took another sip of his tea, using his sleeve to shield the cup as it touched his lips, and then set it down. “I will attempt some plainness with you as well. My uncle has crossed several lines, but none yet from which he cannot recover. At the moment, he even strengthens his position by dealing so harshly and personally with your attackers.”

“Tell me you do not believe that he did not engineer last night’s attack,” Laurence said incredulously.

This apparently stretched the bounds of plainness beyond the prince’s comfort, and he only gave Laurence a level look. 

“Had the attack been successful, he would now be avenging the death of Lung Tien Xiang’s companion, and possibly that of a beloved member of the Li clan, clearing the streets of the Hun-Hun, and perhaps even revealing the evil plot of your own countrymen. That it has failed means only that his mission is now one of retribution rather than revenge. In either event, he has regained his honor in having failed his original charge, and increased his influence by doing away with an annoyance that has recently bid fair to be a threat.” 

“I see,” Laurence said with a deep frown. 

Mianning let the silence settle for a moment, and then volunteered, “There is a rumor just now beginning at court that my father means to adopt you.” 

Laurence stared. “I beg your pardon?” he asked indignantly. 

He had already been adopted once without his prior knowledge or consent. To be adopted a second time as though he were some unwanted foundling passed from one home to the next would be truly beyond the pale. He already had little conception of how he would make peace with Lord Allendale over allowing Li An Tien to collar him, a concern set aside under the greater conundrum of explaining his orientation to begin with. How he should explain being adopted in a more personal way by a foreign emperor, he didn’t like to guess.

“You must recall,” Li An Tien broke in gently, “that Celestials are reserved as companions only for members of the immediate imperial family. Even one such as myself could aspire no greater than an Imperial.” 

Laurence opened his mouth to respond, and then stopped. “You mean to say that any impediment to my remaining with Temeraire would be dissolved?” 

“It would be only natural,” Mianning said in mild agreement.

Hesitating a moment, Laurence asked, “How well-founded are these rumors?”

Mianning smiled thinly. “Quite well-founded, though meeting heavy resistance at present.” 

Laurence tried to summon up some additional indignation, but he knew he would do far worse to stay with Temeraire and call it cheap at the price. 

Nevertheless, the words felt distasteful in his mouth when he said, “Please instruct me on how I might assist in overcoming this resistance.” 

“I suspect you need do little that you would not already do. We can expect another attempt on your life in the coming weeks. Having moved so overtly, the opposing party cannot hope to be redeemed but through victory.” 

While that was hardly comforting, it did make plain the forces against which Mianning had chosen to stand. That it was to Laurence’s benefit seemed only an afterthought, but he asked, “Why are you helping me, your majesty?” 

Pausing to consider his response, Mianning said, “I do not like what I know of Britain. I do not like the violence and lack of enlightenment, and I do not like the way so much of Europe seems to feel it necessary to creep always past their own borders.” 

He delivered the multiple insults casually, bluntly, but then continued, “And yet, China cannot hope to remain isolated forever. For the moment, our superiority in the breeding, training, and treatment of our dragons means that there are none in the known world who could easily threaten us, but eventually, that superiority alone will not be enough. We must have allies, and we must have a more equal exchange with the West if we hope to maintain our culture. I fear that we, like so many before us, would not survive the concerted efforts of the West to break through our defenses and dismantle our way of life from the inside. I would prefer to have some control over that inevitable outcome.” 

Laurence swallowed down any number of responses and constrained himself to a nod. “I understand, Highness.” 

“I would like to extend my hospitality to you and your junior, Li An Tien. I am sure my uncle will agree that my home will be far less likely to undergo such an attack, and that the emperor’s wish for your safety will be better fulfilled under my own roof.” 

Li An Tien inclined his head graciously. “We would be grateful to accept, Your Highness.” 

Finishing his tea, Mianning set the cup aside and picked his brush back up. This was apparently a cue to leave, and Li An Tien finished his own tea just slowly enough to let Laurence catch up before he pushed himself back from the table and rolled up to his feet. Laurence’s own rise was not quite so graceful, but he managed. 

Fatigue pulled at him as they followed the same official from the room and back into the courtyard. Both crews and the dragons had already cleared out, leaving the space wide and empty. They were escorted into a secondary courtyard surrounded by a high wall. The garden within was swarming with guards in a mixture of the red and black of Li Jian’s men and the red and gold of the Crown Prince’s. Closer to the building were the aviators and the Li guards. 

Laurence drew in a breath to protest the overkill, but it died on his lips as he caught sight of a covered pavilion hosting their injured. He nodded in greeting as Granby abandoned the broad porch around the house to meet them on the path. 

“I’ve arranged for a watch,” he said softly with a flickering glance at the surrounding guards.

“My brother’s own crew will supplement your rotation. Please ensure that the men get adequate rest between shifts,” Li An Tien said mildly, but his expression was evidently enough to make Granby relax. 

Granby glanced up questioningly at Laurence, and Laurence nodded back to him. He was not sure that they could trust Mianning’s men, though the prince himself seemed to have an interest in the success of their mission and Laurence’s continued survival. Whether the guards held the same opinion as their master was another thing entirely. If Li An Tien had enough faith in his brother’s men to put them forward, Laurence was inclined to accept his judgement for the moment. The others, he would view with more reserve until he had a better measure of them.

“Have we any news of the _Allegiance_?” Laurence asked as they resumed walking toward their new lodgings. It was a handsome two story building, well nestled among flowering trees and designed to blend into the garden. Considering that they had yet to remain in place for more than a pair of weeks since making port, Laurence did not intend to become attached. 

“Nothing yet, sir,” Granby said, but he looked over to Li An Tien curiously, who only shook his head. “They’re not expected for another several weeks,” he pointed out. 

“And any number of factors could delay them further yet,” Laurence agreed. He wanted to pull Granby aside to discuss the notion of the adoption, and was shocked to feel in himself a real desire for comfort. Granby could hardly present any information on the matter that Li An Tien could not, but of the two of them, Granby was more likely to understand the warring sense of absurdity and nervous hope. Even Riley, who had been as close to a real friend as Laurence had managed to make in the navy, would not have been an acceptable confidant for this. 

Granby showed them to their rooms, but he left before Laurence could manage to pull him into private conversation. Laurence might have called him back, but he noticed a curl of steam beneath a door and nudged it open to find a large tub filled with steaming hot water facing a window that overlooked the garden. 

The allure of the water proved to be too much, and he was struggling out of his clothing almost before he had fully registered the provided toiletries.


	10. Chapter Nine

If it were not for the constant presence of the armed guards, Laurence might have forgotten that they were under threat of attack at any moment. The days slid back into a pattern of droning lessons, frustrating dinners with cryptic politicians, and Hammond’s near constant flitting from one beleaguered official to another. Hammond appeared on the grounds no more than a spare handful of minutes in any given day, and was otherwise engaged almost entirely elsewhere. It was a state that Laurence could not help but prefer over the earlier days of Hammond hovering in his shadow with anxious suggestions.

On the fourth day, Laurence woke from a waking daze to a loud crash in the courtyard and a welcome bellow of, “Laurence! Laurence!” 

Pushing away from the table in the middle of his classical poetry lesson, Laurence let his brush roll across the page and rushed for the door, leaving shouting tutors behind him. 

“Temeraire!” he called even as he pushed the door open. “Temeraire, I am here!” 

Temeraire reared up over the flowering trees and reached out to take Laurence directly off the porch, claws not even brushing the highly polished wooden planks. He clutched Laurence to his chest, and was in the air a moment later. Laurence was so immediately grateful to have Temeraire back that he wouldn’t have protested their leaving even if he hadn’t been going quietly insane for days in the stifling confines of the sprawling guest house. 

A moment later, Temeraire landed again. He opened his talon, but coiled around Laurence so quickly that he couldn’t even see where they were. 

“Oh, Laurence, you are well? I returned to the villa and found it half burned! It smelled so of blood that I was sure you were killed.” 

“Temeraire, my dear, I am sorry! Did they not tell you immediately when you emerged?” 

“Well, I suppose they did try,” Temeraire said reluctantly. He had his wing spread out over the curl of his body, leaving them in a cozy cavern. The light filtering through the silvery membrane felt very much like being warm inside with a cloudy sky making the world soft outside the windows. 

“Laurence, oh, it was not so pleasant, being in cycle. I did not like it at all, and I only wanted to see you after, and so I flew off immediately. There were some guards who went after me, but I did not even realize I had been gone so long!” 

Laurence pet Temeraire’s nose consolingly. “I should have taken you seriously, Temeraire, when you told me you were alpha. I did not realize what you meant. I might have been able to give you some warning.” 

“I do not think  _ I _ realized what it meant, Laurence. Is it so for you? It was so strange. I did not feel as though I could think very clearly, I only  _ needed _ so very much. It frightened me, not feeling as though I would want to stop, even if I should.” 

Laurence felt the confused jumble of words pressing into his chest and he had to bite back a sob as he draped himself over Temeraire’s muzzle. “I am so sorry, my dear. Are you…? Temeraire, are you well?” 

“Yes, Laurence,” he said, tilting his head to press himself more firmly against Laurence’s chest. “They were all very accommodating and spoke to me quite nicely. No one seemed to think that I had any reason to reproach myself at all, but I did feel so wretched once I could think like myself again.”

Alarmed, Laurence asked, “All? Temeraire, what do you mean?” 

“There was mostly Mei, but there were other dragons as well, when she got tired or I sent her away. Laurence, will it always be this way?” he asked plaintively. 

Laurence swallowed. He ran his hand comfortingly over the delicate hide around Temeraire’s nostril. “I wish I could tell you it would grow easier, Temeraire. I cannot imagine how your cycle would be compared to mine, but I can tell you that you will come to expect it, and you will learn to manage it.”

Temeraire shuddered faintly. “I understand now,” he said softly, “Why you did not like to talk about it. And why you were so angry when those crewmen said what they did back in Dover. I should now like very much to punish them for it.” 

“No, Temeraire, we cannot,” Laurence said softly, though he felt also a kind of horrible vindication at the sentiment, remembering that urge in himself to put them both to a mast and whip them bloody.

“They do not understand, Laurence, how terrible it is!” he said, lifting his head up enough that Laurence’s feet left the ground. He settled back down a moment later, but Laurence could feel the tension in his posture. 

Laurence hesitated, but offered, “Perhaps it is not always terrible, Temeraire. If it is with someone you care for very much, and trust. When one is not in cycle, it is… the act itself can be quite enjoyable.” Heat flared madly in his cheeks, but he felt the terrible unfairness of leaving Temeraire with the idea that it was unpleasant at all times. 

“I suppose in the beginning it was quite nice,” Temeraire muttered. “Only then it was like not quite being myself, and it wouldn’t have mattered if it were Mei or anyone else. Laurence? Would you stay with me a while? I am so very tired.”

“As long as you would like, Temeraire. Always.” 

~*~

It was morning by the time Temeraire consented to allow Laurence out of his sight longer than necessary for basic biological functions. He yawned as he took the circuitous path back toward the guest house. The trees were spotted with small camps of guardsmen, most quiet in the early hours before dawn, though several had men seated outside their tents, talking softly. He passed other groups patrolling in twos and threes, and they all stopped to bow to him before continuing on their routes. 

Laurence heard a murmur of voices as he passed through the manicured hedge creating an abbreviated private garden around the house and granting some small measure of privacy from the omnipresent military force. He glanced over to see Granby and Li An Tien under the broad umbrella of a tree laden with clusters of purple flowers. 

They were obviously engaged in a private conversation, and Laurence turned automatically to take the longer path into the house just as Granby reached forward and grabbed Li An Tien by the forearm. 

Li An Tien started back in shock and Laurence’s stomach dropped. He hurried around the bushes, getting both of their attention with the suddenness of the motion. Granby realized what he had done and dropped Li An Tien’s arm swiftly, taking a step back even as Laurence moved to put himself between his first lieutenant and the other omega. 

“I beg you forgive him,” Laurence said. “He is my subordinate, and any consequence from this rightly belongs to me.”

Granby made a miserable sort of choking noise and Li An Tien stared up Laurence with his lips parted. Heat flushed slowly up his face, and he closed his lips into a thin, angry line. 

“You must think me monstrously cruel!” he snapped, startling Laurence in turn. 

Laurence did not think he had ever heard Li An Tien raise his voice except in the heat of battle, and even then, only to be heard over the noise, not with an abundance of emotion. The man struggled visibly to get control of himself, the heat on his face uneven and extending down the line of his throat to disappear beneath the golden collar. 

Taking a calming breath, Li An Tien drew himself up to his full height. He made Laurence a stiff, shallow bow. “Captain, I am formally requesting the attendance of your beta for my heat.” 

The words quite drove the breath out of Laurence’s chest. Behind him, Granby made a noise not entirely unlike a squeak, though Laurence was hardly in any condition to call him on it. He looked back to see Granby flushed up scarlet and looking determinedly at the trunk of the tree. 

“I see,” Laurence said, realizing now the conversation he had blundered into and wishing very much that he had managed to turn away just a fraction more swiftly.

Li An Tien nodded at Granby. “If I may have the pleasure of your company, you need only present yourself to one of my guards, and you will be conveyed to my chamber at once. I will leave you gentlemen to discuss the proposal.” This having been said, he turned sharply on one heel and stalked away, every line of his body tight with anger, or embarrassment, or both. 

In his wake, Laurence and Granby stood in increasingly uncomfortable silence. Laurence could not quite make himself turn to meet Granby’s eye, and Granby had taken to shifting anxiously, the fingers of one hand pulling at the bark of the tree as though he found it suddenly fascinating. 

Laurence cleared his throat. “I owe you an apology, I believe, Mr. Granby.” 

“Ah,” Granby fumbled. “No, sir. I would have - I did  _ mean _ to discuss it with you. That is, the request...” 

Cheeks flaming, Laurence swallowed and said, “Your leave will, of course, be approved. Only…” Laurence’s voice tried to give out, but he squared his shoulders and turned to face his first lieutenant directly. “This is not your duty, John. I will not countenance it if you are anything less than absolutely, dare I say, enthusiastically willing. If you are not, you need say nothing more of the matter, simply know that your leave is  _ not _ approved if you do not wish it to be, and any who complain may be pointed in my direction.” 

“Oh, God,” Granby said under his breath with fervent conviction, covering his eyes with one hand. “I am willing, sir.” 

“Very good, Mr. Granby. I do not expect to see you on duty until you are well and truly recovered. Remove yourself from the roster at once.” 

That accomplished, Laurence turned immediately to go, but was forestalled by Granby calling out softly, “Captain?” 

“Will,” Laurence said, turning back around, if reluctantly. “For all we have been through together, I believe you have well and truly earned the right to it.” 

Granby straightened up. He had given Laurence the use of his name in that casually dismissive way that Laurence had come to associate with aviators, but Laurence had never returned the offer, just as he had not extended it to Riley until after he was no longer Riley’s captain. Granby was obviously immediately cognizant of this and, despite the awkward circumstances, he smiled somewhat shyly. The expression reminded Laurence of Granby’s youth, for all that there were only six years between them. 

“You will not think less of me?” Granby asked.

Laurence considered the question and sought to consult his own feelings on the matter. His stomach churned uncomfortably, and he could not quite parse out the anxieties one from the other. His hand came up of its own accord to smooth down the cool links of the collar. He could not associate a heat with anything other than misery, but perhaps in this as well, Li An Tien might see it as something else entirely. He could not blame Li An Tien for seeking out companionship just because he had never done so himself, and he could not think ill of Granby for being willing to provide that companionship only because he viewed the prospect for himself as a humiliation.

“No, John. I will not.”

Granby nodded, and Laurence fled gratefully. He thought to disappear immediately into his own room and hide under the pretense of having been kept awake into the small hours by Temeraire’s frequent requests for reassurance, but he recognized the cowardice in it. He straightened his shoulders and forced himself instead to pass his door for Li An Tien’s. At his knock, a servant in the Li clan livery opened the door, bowing deeply when she noticed Laurence on the other side. 

“My humble apologies Celestial Captain Laurence,” she said when he asked after Li An Tien. “Master Li An Tien has gone into seclusion. Rooms have been already prepared for him in the main palace. Do you wish to be taken there?” 

“No!” Laurence said at once. He coughed into his fist. “No, that will not be necessary. Thank you.” 

She bowed again and remained bent over at the waist until he had withdrawn completely and stepped into his own room. Only after his door was closed did he hear Li An Tien’s door slide shut as well. Through the wall separating their rooms, he could hear movement, and guessed that the servants were packing some things for him in his isolation.

Laurence’s primers, written in Li An Tien’s neat hand with an English translation opposite each passage, were still open on his desk. He let his eyes drift over the page, still surprised when some of the characters resolved into words almost before he realized he was translating them. One of Lady Qian’s letters was rolled next to the box of brushes, alongside his own laughable attempt at copying several poems for Temeraire’s sake. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Laurence abandoned the desk to seek out his bed. He would have only a few hours before he was summoned to lessons. 

~*~

That night, Prince Mianning extended an invitation to Laurence’s crew and the Li household to attend a dinner and entertainment. There was a festive air around the palace that Laurence couldn’t help but suspect was in response to Li An Tien’s heat. He had already been heartily congratulated by Sun Kai for Granby’s absence, that gentlemen proving as well to have an excellent command of English, and showed not the least hint of shame when Laurence commented on it. 

After Li An Tien, he should not have been shocked by it, but he couldn’t help but remember the times when Sun Kai had taken his air on the deck, standing in easy earshot of Laurence’s conversations with his officers and with Riley, when they had thought themselves to be secure in the privacy of the language barrier. 

At dinner, he found himself placed by another omega in green and gold robes, her collar even more ornate and cumbersome than his own. The broad band was constructed not of interlocking disks woven with chains, as was his own, but was rather nearly a solid band of gold with a heavy jade pendant in the center. Smaller pendants sat on either side of the central adornment, creating a piece so monstrous that she couldn’t possibly have any freedom of movement of either her neck or jaw. Chains draped over her entire upper body, covering even her shoulders down to nearly her elbows, the whole of it studded with glittering green stones and jade beads. 

Laurence inclined his head to her, as Li An Tien had greeted him the first time on the dock in Dongguan. She returned the gesture, more shallowly. Laurence understood that the depth of a bow typically indicated the difference in status, but even that shallow inclination had pressed the top of her collar into the underside of her chin. He resisted the urge to touch his own collar, suddenly grateful for it if this might have been the alternative.

She was older than he, likely closer to his mother’s age, and carried herself with all the dignity of a queen. 

“Have you any English, ma’am?” he asked politely after he made her a decent greeting in Chinese, which she returned with far more grace.

“I do.” She extended her hand to him. Laurence looked at her blankly for a moment. He had become so accustomed to not being touched by strangers that the gesture seemed odd to him in the moment. Muscle memory carried him through, and he slipped a hand under hers and lifted it to brush his lips over her knuckles. 

Only after he straightened to see a glimmer of victory on her face and faint looks of shock on those of other attendees, did he realize that he had made an error. If the incline of their heads had been a greeting of equals, him bowing so deeply over her hand marked him quite decidedly as her inferior. He released her hand and straightened stiffly.

“A charming custom,” she said. “I have been curious about it. Thank you for sharing it with me, though, of course, such things are not required between us.” Her smile was overly gracious, but she folded her hands over her stomach and dipped down in a shallow kind of curtsey. 

“I am happy to oblige, madam,” Laurence said, unable to keep the irritation out of his tone, though he did wonder at it. He would not have felt a moment’s hesitation to do as much for any lady, and not felt himself either slighted or wronged by it. He wondered uncomfortably just how much of his irritation was for the scheming the exchange implied, and how much was genuinely on his own behalf. He did not like to think that he had grown so comfortable with his status as to be genuinely offended by the notion that another should be placed above him.

“I am Kang Xifeng Tien,” she introduced as they turned to their individual tables at the head of the room. “I have been most curious to meet you, Li Laurence Tien.” 

The name seemed vaguely familiar and Laurence wracked his brain for where he had heard it before, but only said, “The pleasure is mine, ma’am.” 

She made a low humming noise. “Have you been able to do much traveling here in China, Li Laurence Tien?” 

“We arrived at the port in Guangzhou, and travelled up the river there from Dongguan, and from there to Peking. I did have the opportunity to see some of the countryside en route. It is a lovely country.” 

“Ah, but a pity you have seen so little of it. The empire is vast, and filled with wonders that a young man like yourself would surely find stimulating.” 

The way her accent wrapped around the final word made a blush rise unaccountably to his cheeks. He took the excuse of arranging himself on the low cushion behind his table to avoid responding for a moment, and then waited a moment longer as two young women flowed out of the shadows to assist Kang Xifeng Tien in doing the same. The chains of her collar were so cumbersome that she was not even able to lift her arms to make their task easier, but it was obviously a practiced ritual between them. Both women took her by the hand and squeezed in tight to her sides while she pressed down on them. Together, they all three sank to the floor, smoothly and gracefully enough that Kang Xifeng Tien did not even stumble. 

Once she had been comfortably seated, her robes spread out around her like flower petals, Laurence rekindled their conversation politely, saying, “Temeraire is certainly keen to explore when the opportunity arises.” 

“Temeraire…? Ah, Lung Tien Xiang. Of course, he should be curious about his home,” she said. One of the girls knelt next to her table and picked up a delicate milky jade decanter that looked rather more like a very tall teapot with a long, narrow spout. She held two fingers over the lid and poured a measure of the local rice wine into a thimble-sized cup. 

When Kang Xifeng Tien picked it up, Laurence hastened to fill his own cup and lifted it to her in a toast. He swallowed the mouthful and turned to set it down, jolting in shock to see a young man kneeling at his right, having neither seen nor heard the servant approach. Without a word, the servant refilled his cup. 

“Thank you,” Laurence said uncomfortably. He supposed it was really no different than having a footman standing against the wall with a wine decanter to fill diner’s glasses throughout the meal, and it was only the visibility of the kneeling figure that made him uncomfortable.

“The Kang clan has many estates throughout the empire,” Kang Xifeng Tien said. “We would be most pleased to host Lung Tien Xiang and yourself at any of them, should you wish to travel.” 

Laurence detected an emphasis on the words that seemed wrong to him, though he could not exactly pinpoint why. “Thank you, madam, that is a most generous offer.” 

“I am sure things must be so strange for you here. Please do feel as though you can call upon me at our Peking estate at any time if you need guidance. We would, of course, be happy to welcome you to our home if you desire a change in scenery.” Her eyes slid down to his collar and she smiled pleasantly.

Warning bells rang in the back of his head and he turned to take his cup again. “Thank you, ma’am. Li An Tien has been a most gracious guide, and certainly we could ask for no better scenery than the prince’s home.” 

She put a delicate hand to her chest and demurred, “Of course.” 

“Have you ever visited the Li estate, ma’am?” he asked, setting the cup down. 

Her lips turned down slightly in the corners. “I have not had the pleasure.” 

“I find it lovely.” 

She gave him a somewhat brittle smile and nodded. “I am certain it is as you say.” 

Music started, dancers flowing into the hall, and Laurence was spared from any further conversation with the other omega. He suspected that her rapt attention to the performance was more out of a desire to avoid any further conversation with him, and he felt strangely gratified by it. 

While he was pondering his own odd mood, a subtle cough called his attention to his other side. He had originally taken no great notice of the man on his right, but now turned to see with a good deal of apprehension that he was a Westerner. He was dressed in green silk robes in the local custom, and was dark of hair himself. Combined with the Mandarin-style cap, he had blended in with the other guests seamlessly. 

“I hope you will forgive me making myself known to you, Celestial Captain Laurence,” the man said in a French accent as thick and rich as honey. “I rely on some small acquaintance for the introduction. Chrétien-Louis-Joseph de Guignes, your most humble servant.” 

Though seated, the man nonetheless made Laurence an elegant bow, and one that would have been better suited to either a member of the royal family, or a lady. 

“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage,” Laurence said, leaning away from him without meaning to, his stomach twisting. He had known that he would have to face his countrymen at some point with the truth of his orientation on display, but he had not been prepared to meet another European so soon. “I am unfamiliar with our acquaintance.” 

Without even glancing at Laurence’s collar, de Guignes said, “My nephew writes to me that he owes his life to your magnanimity. You have my deepest gratitude, and that of his mother for sparing his life.” 

At Laurence’s blank look, he went on to describe his nephew, and Laurence realized that he meant the young lieutenant who had fought with such fierce bravery to take him captive over the channel less than a year ago and an entire world away.

“He is uncommonly brave. You should be proud,” Laurence said, having recalled the encounter. “I hope he does well?” 

De Guignes nodded. “At his last letter, he expected to rise from his sick bed any day, and his father was even then arranging his ransom.” 

Laurence was glad to hear of it and said as much. He lifted his cup in a toast to the boy’s health, and de Guignes made him another in response. The French ambassador quickly proved himself to be an able and pleasant conversationalist, never touching on either the unhappy state of affairs between their nations, or Laurence’s orientation. Indeed, for the hour and more of the dinner entertainment, it was as though Laurence’s life had been reset. He could imagine that he was only a gentleman having a conversation with another gentleman, for all the world, a beta. 

~*~

When they were released from the entertainment, Laurence took to the garden to speak with Temeraire and found Yongxing standing at Temeraire’s side with a young boy in tow, making an introduction. Laurence hurried his steps, seeing Temeraire’s ruff laying dangerously flat to his neck. Roland was standing between Temeraire and the prince, but looked only mostly curious at the young boy. 

Once Laurence drew near enough, Temeraire said, “Laurence, this is Prince Miankai. Yongxing was introducing us.” 

Laurence was not the only one who noticed the conspicuous lack of Yongxing’s title, but the prince only stiffened minutely at the slight and set a hand on Miankai’s shoulder. Laurence eyed the child. He was a slender boy a few years younger than Roland, and looked somewhat preposterous in the ornate robes, though, Laurence supposed, no less preposterous than any royal child so decked in the trappings of nobility at such a small scale. 

“Your highness,” Laurence said, meeting Yongxing’s eyes, and then looking down at the child. “It is a pleasure to meet you, young prince.” 

“You are omega,” the prince announced, gazing curiously at Laurence’s collar. “My mother is omega.” 

Momentarily taken aback, Laurence could not immediately manage a response. The pregnancies were famously difficult, but omegas and alphas always bred true when they managed to carry to term. If the boy’s mother was omega, he would present as one or the other himself once he reached puberty. Back home, the children of such parents were always watched with a mixture of eagerness and pity, the tension around them steadily increasing as they approached a likely age, society waiting to celebrate an alpha or mourn an omega. Laurence was one of those exceptionally rare cases that appeared without warning from a long line of betas. 

“What do you think you’ll be?” Roland asked curiously in that shockingly rude way that only children could truly manage. Yongxing seemed strangely pleased with the question, however, which set Laurence immediately to alert. 

“There is much of his mother in the young prince,” Yongxing said with a hint of smugness. He met Laurence’s eyes as though conveying a threat, though Laurence could only guess at what he was intended to glean from it.

“Huh,” Roland said. “My mother says I’m a lot like my father, but I don’t think so.” She wrinkled up her nose, and then looked up at Laurence, entirely missing the reluctantly curious look on his face. Laurence had never heard her reference her father, and had never been able to phrase the question in such a way to get his identity from Jane. He found himself looking for any new sense of recognition in her features as he waited to see if she would continue, but she only said, “Sir? Can Prince Miankai play with us? We’ve got jacks.” 

Seeing Yongxing’s immediate disapproval with this notion, Laurence said, “I am sure that would be acceptable if Prince Miankai wishes to join you.” 

Oblivious to the strategy going on above their heads, Miankai nodded eagerly and Roland was quick to take the boy by the hand and lead him off to the promised game with Laurence’s runners. His necessity for civility having now abandoned him, Yongxing stiffly made his excuses and walked quickly away. 

“He asked me if the boy might sit up on my arm,” Temeraire said indignantly. “As if I were a couch to just be sat upon whenever one liked.” 

“You have never minded when any of the crew should do so,” Laurence pointed out, though he did narrow his eyes at Yongxing’s retreating back. 

Temeraire snorted. “That’s different,” he said. “They’re  _ my _ crew. Of course they may.” 

Seemingly quite unaware of any irony, Temeraire immediately presented his forearm for Laurence to climb up on. Stifling his laughter, Laurence did so, settling comfortably into the crook of Temeraire’s elbow. The night air was pleasant, and the music was a lovely compilation of haunting string instruments and flutes rather than the jarring clanging of drums and cymbals that Laurence had encountered previously. 

“Do you suppose that Granby is quite alright?” Temeraire asked after a moment of companionable silence. 

“I imagine so,” Laurence said, trying very hard not to imagine anything at all involving Granby just then.

“I know that Li An Tien is our family now, but he still should have asked me. Granby is my first lieutenant,” Temeraire grouched. He had been immediately incensed when he learned of Granby’s whereabouts once he realized that Ferris had been performing many of Granby’s usual duties. 

“We cannot dictate the personal relationships of our crew, dearest.” 

Temeraire made a rumbling sound deep in his throat. “I do not see why we mayn’t.” 

Laughing, Laurence patted Temeraire’s arm. “Truly, I should have known you for an alpha much sooner, Temeraire. You would fit right into the old stories about pack alphas.” 

“Well,” Temeraire sniffed, “it is only that I am concerned Li An Tien might think he gets to keep Granby. Granby is a very fine first lieutenant and anyone might want to steal him from us, and that would be perfectly dreadful. I don’t suppose we could say we are a pack after all, and so of course our betas must remain?” 

“I do believe the time of the pack passed well out of fashion around the time we humans gave up stone knives and cudgels, Temeraire. I am certain that Mr. Granby will return in a few days, no worse for wear,” Laurence said, though the thought made him color somewhat. He certainly did not ask Temeraire what he should think if Granby asked to remain rather than Li An Tien spiriting him away.

“He had best,” Temeraire warned. “Oh, that is quite lovely, do you not think so?” He tipped his head as a single string instrument soared above the others, and then carried on alone for a time before it was joined by a single flute. They fell quiet to listen to the music, Laurence absently running his hand over Temeraire’s warm hide, and Temeraire sometimes humming along, the deep rumble of his voice adding a pleasant undercurrent to the score. 


	11. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Squeaking in a little late with this one this week, sorry about that!

Yongxing appeared the morning after with Prince Miankai once again in tow, presenting him to the tutors to join Laurence’s lessons. Miankai had his own tutor at his side, and the three scholars set to a quiet, though fierce, argument of which content should be presented in which order, and which of the core Chinese philosophers made more appropriate studying material. In Laurence’s case, of course, this was all rather a moot point as his grasp of the language was only just progressing to the point of separating out syllables into words.

While the tutors argued, Yongxing commented to the boy that Lung Tien Xiang was already proving himself to be an able scholar and poet, and Prince Miankai might benefit from his expertise. This bit of praise sent Temeraire into a brief spasm of obviously conflicting impulses to be both pleased by the compliment and to dislike it at once only because it had been delivered by Yongxing.

“Li Laurence Tien,” Yongxing said unexpectedly, turning to Laurence. “Accompany me for a walk.” 

Laurence could think of very few things he would like to do _less_ than take a walk with Yongxing, but he would not have tolerated rudeness toward the prince from any of his officers, and he could not very well hold himself to a lower status of courtesy. He looked up in vain for Temeraire’s assistance. If he had heard the request, he would have objected immediately, and Laurence knew that if he only politely informed Temeraire of the request, Temeraire would certainly refuse to allow Laurence to go alone, despite the dozens of guards patrolling around the orchard.

The cowardice behind the impulse stilled Laurence’s tongue. He put a hand on Temeraire’s forearm and said only, “I will return shortly, my dear.” 

Temeraire had joined the spirited debate between the tutors and only said, “Do not be concerned, Laurence, I will not allow them to remove Wang Bo-An from the curriculum.” 

Laurence hadn’t the slightest idea who Wang Bo-An was, but he doubted it would make a material difference to him if they studied Wang Bo-An or any other long-dead philosopher, or the local songbird from the nearest brothel for that matter. He patted Temeraire’s arm again and turned to nod to the prince. 

“Mr. Dunn!” he called, getting the rifleman’s attention. “Locate Roland and Dyer and have them come out.” 

Dunn gave him a quick salute and reversed his direction to carry out the order. Yongxing opened his stride enough to pull half a step forward of Laurence. He crossed his hands behind his back as he walked, stately and graceful in his ponderous weight of silk. Laurence wore his modified uniform, his collar taking the place of his cravat and winking in the morning sunlight. 

“You have settled in well at my nephew’s home,” Yongxing said after they had passed a pair of patrolling guardsmen. 

Laurence glanced to the side to see the guardsmen in question casually curving out of their usual route to follow at a discreet distance. Yongxing’s own pair of guards walked closer, one to either side. 

“Prince Mianning has been a most gracious host,” Laurence said noncommittally. He took a long stride so they were once again shoulder-to-shoulder. He perceived the tension in Yongxing’s shoulders, but he neither commented, nor moved to pull away again. 

“I am well aware, Captain Laurence, that you and I will never share a complimentary point of view on anything except Lung Tien Xiang’s health and happiness. On this grounds, I wish to make one final appeal.” His head tilted marginally toward Laurence. “Even as an omega, you cannot hope to remain companion to Lung Tien Xiang. We honor the divinity Heaven has bestowed upon even a Western barbarian, whereas your countrymen choose to ignore right thinking and treat omegas as little better than mangy dogs.” 

Laurence’s jaw clenched slowly, but he could hardly refute that conclusion, even if he would like to object to being labeled in his person as a barbarian.

“You are a member of the Li household. It would be only natural for you to be assigned to a position in keeping with your rank. As a provincial governor, you would enjoy all the privileges you deserve, and, of course, could remain a close correspondent of Lung Tien Xiang.” 

The offer was so startling that Laurence missed a step and found himself walking in Yongxing’s wake once more. “That is an interesting offer, Your Highness.” 

“It is not an offer,” Yongxing said blithely. “It is merely a statement of fact. You may remain here, with the family that has adopted you, and you may take a position commensurate with your rank, and no one will stop Lung Tien Xiang from maintaining a correspondence with a provincial governor.” 

What Yongxing did not say was that Laurence would certainly be placed in a figurehead position in a province as far away from the capital as could be contrived on the hopes that distance and the intrigues of court life would distract Temeraire. Laurence considered what such a life would offer him besides boredom and idleness, perfectly well aware that while no one would stop Temeraire from writing to him, it would be easy enough for his own letters to go astray, and there would be excuses enough to keep him in his distant exile and Temeraire busy at court. 

“Thank you for making me aware of these facts,” Laurence said. It would be smarter, perhaps, to leave the conversation there, to allow Yongxing to draw his own conclusions while the diplomats worked, but Laurence could not do it. “I will reiterate an understanding I thought we had reached months ago, Your Highness. Not even this, more grand, bribe will induce me to willingly leave Temeraire’s side, and I beg that you will stop trying.” 

Yongxing’s neck stretched upward as his posture stiffened. Without a word, he sped his steps and left Laurence behind between the lines of flowering trees.

~*~

By the time Laurence returned to the tables set up between Temeraire’s forearms for their lessons, Prince Miankai had seated himself at a smaller table with paper and brush. Seating himself, Laurence complimented the young prince’s calligraphy once the boy began to swish his brush across the page, though, in truth, Laurence was not convinced that this wasn’t just scribbling.

A moment later, the two runners came slinking unhappily up to the study area. Laurence’s pair of tutors were still arguing with the newcomer, for once presenting a united front, and Laurence privately felt that the lesson could be avoided altogether if only he didn’t call their attention away from their debate. He set the runners down across from Miankai, who seemed mildly surprised at this interruption to his work space, and had them bring out their arithmetic. 

To his private satisfaction, the young prince was immediately made curious by their work. At Laurence’s nudging, Roland flipped back to the beginning and showed him her figures. Dyer jumped in with his own, and Miankai was quickly showing them how to write the numbers in Chinese. 

With the children thus distracted, Laurence picked up his own book of poetry and moved to sit up on Temeraire’s forearm to read it. Temeraire made a far more patient and encouraging tutor, and he was happy to correct Laurence’s pronunciation and to explain the often opaque phrases. 

When Yongxing returned to find that the three children had commandeered Miankai’s tutor and were running him thoroughly through his paces while the other two had shifted to deliver their lesson up at Laurence with Temeraire’s frequent interjections, he took the boy somewhat roughly by the hand and lead him away without a word. Prince Miankai seemed a sweet child, and turned to wave at Roland and Dyer as he skipped to keep up with Yongxing’s longer strider and the tutor gratefully packed up and ran after them. 

Yongxing did not return with Miankai the next morning, but Laurence still brought the children over to continue their lessons, and they settled into yet another pattern. 

~*~

That night, Laurence pulled Hammond aside to discuss his conversation with the prince. He confessed his own blunt refusal last and stood waiting for Hammond’s tirade, but Hammond only waved his concern blithely aside. 

“No, in this case, your habit of blunt honesty has served us well,” Hammond said, chewing on his lower lip while he made a record of the conversation, probing Laurence for additional details, down to how quickly they were walking, and whether Yongxing’s hands had been crossed right-over-left or the other way around, details that Laurence had not observed. 

“Most of the critical voices at court are undecided on this issue. If Yongxing had been able to tell them with any confidence that you would accept such a compromise, they would certainly go to his side in a trice. Even if such an arrangement were made to yours and Temeraire’s satisfaction, I doubt you would make it more than a single day’s travel outside of the city before some enterprising brigands took it into their heads to see you dead in the road.” 

Laurence nodded. He had not considered that particular scenario until after Yongxing had collected Miankai and departed for the evening, but it seemed likely. If not on the road, then after Temeraire had grown accustomed to Laurence’s infrequent, and then absent replies. It would be easy enough to tell Temeraire that he had chosen to return to England and departed.

Hammond leaned forward and grabbed Laurence’s arm. Laurence jerked back immediately, and Hammond dropped his arm without further prompting or offense, but he stood too close, his body heat and the scent of him filling the air between them. Laurence leaned subtly away, but Hammond took no notice. 

“Captain, it is _imperative_ going forward that you do not engage in any further private conversations with the prince. If he can show even that you are willing to be persuaded, it will put him in a far better position to sway support. If you cannot have myself, or Li An Tien—when he returns, of course—you must at least take Temeraire.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Hammond. If you have no further questions, I believe I will return to Temeraire now.” 

Finally stepping back, Hammond waved distractedly, peering at his notebook without any indication that he’d heard Laurence beyond the agreement. Laurence escaped the house gratefully, feeling overly warm in his heavy silk jacket and collar. He found Temeraire stretched out beside the pavilion, watching the stars between the trees. 

“Might I join you?” Laurence asked, though Temeraire had already stretched out his forearm and Laurence was already pulling himself up. 

“The sky does look very nice tonight,” Temeraire observed. 

Rather than settling himself in the crook of Temeraire’s elbow, as was his wont, he instead stripped off his jacket and laid back against Temeraire’s talon. He settled one hand on his collar over his chest and the other behind his neck to tell Temeraire about the earlier conversation. 

Temeraire snorted. “As though I would let you go off to be a _provincial governor_ somewhere without me. How perfectly ridiculous.” He titled his head so he could look down at Laurence. “Not that Yongxing is right about anything ever, but Laurence… the way things are in England. For omegas _and_ for dragons… it does not need to be so.” 

Laurence was quiet for several moments. “No,” he said slowly. “No, it does not.” 

“Once we tell people how different things are here in China, and they understand that dragons do not need to be feared, and omegas must be treated like people things must certainly change. They _must_.” 

For his part, Laurence was not so confident, but the deep conviction in Temeraire’s voice was inspiring, if innocent of the lengthy processes involved in legal and social change. That parliament could not even be convinced to extend legal protections to their own citizens, citizens who looked like them and often came from their own houses, the fight over the slave trade had been enough of a pitched battle. The fight for dragon rights would be more difficult yet, when most British citizens considered dragons little more than very large, very dangerous animals.

“We must certainly try,” Laurence said, and Temeraire leaned down to nudge him affectionately. So affectionately that he nearly tipped Laurence directly into the grass. Laughing, Laurence caught at this muzzle and curled up just enough to press his forehead to the soft hide before releasing Temeraire to return to his stargazing.

~*~ 

Li An Tien and Granby had been absent already for four days, and Laurence was ready to storm in and haul Granby out by the scruff of his neck. Riggs was a talented aviator, though his manner rougher than Laurence liked in a commanding officer, and he was not Granby. Laurence had grown used to Granby simply having things done, where Riggs required more guidance with the unaccustomed duties. In addition to this, Temeraire had taken to muttering darkly that it was not the way _Granby_ would do it whenever Riggs did make a decision without consulting Laurence first.

Riggs did not take it amiss and was happy to point out that Granby would be along shortly and things could return to the status quo then. Laurence did his best to be patient, and was made aware by the exercise of how much he had begun to take Granby for granted, or, perhaps, how much Granby had taken it upon himself to do with them all being so far removed from familiar duties. 

Laurence was already feeling somewhat irritable when he woke, and the morning’s peppering of questions had not put him in a much better mood, though he recognized that the questions were thoughtful and necessary and it was only his temper that was out of sorts as he picked his away across the garden. 

Prince Mianning waited for him under a canvas pavilion set up at Temeraire’s side with Hammond, Li Jian, and the captain of Li An Tien’s guard. Laurence felt a prickling annoyance lodge under his skin at the sight of the impromptu gathering, suspecting that a new torture awaited him as a result. He did not allow his steps to drag, but opened his stride to get the conference over with sooner rather than later.

As he passed under the shadow of the canvas, he felt a strange shuddering in his limbs and his heartbeat sped unprompted. His expression must have been truly savage, as the entire assemblage gave him looks running the gamut from confused to concerned. He opened his mouth to make a greeting, but an abrupt growl caught his attention and his head whipped around to take in Li Jian, half out of his seat with his eyes fastened to Laurence and the volume of the unexpected sound rising quickly. 

Laurence spit out a hiss. 

It was a sound he had never made in his life, and it startled him so badly that he took a step back. Li Jian had also apparently been shocked enough by the sound to come back to himself and he blinked as though in a daze, mouth forming into an ‘o’ of almost comical surprise. 

“My God,” Laurence said, putting a hand to his chest and encountering the chilled links of his collar instead of his own heartbeat. “I do apologize.” 

He was accustomed to his body betraying him during a cycle, but he had always prided himself on his composure outside of those unhappy circumstances. To find himself reacting so astonishingly outside of his own control now left an acidic aftertaste in his mouth. 

“Did you just _growl_ at my captain?” Temeraire demanded, lowering his head so he could see into the pavilion and fixing Li Jian with a single outraged eye. “As though my captain were someone you could just growl at any time you pleased!”

Not without cause, Li Jian quickly backed away from Temeraire, and then dropped to his knees and apologized profusely. He spoke in Chinese, and too quickly for Laurence to understand more than a few of the common phrases. 

Hammond sidled up to Laurence while Temeraire made an angry retort. “Was that necessary, Captain?” he asked in a harsh undertone that he likely meant to be private. 

“Ah,” Mianning said while Temeraire continued to glare down at Li Jian. “We should have expected as much, with Lung Tien Xiang's recent cycle and your senior’s current cycle.” 

Laurence blinked at him. “What?” 

Finally tearing his eye away from Li Jian, Temeraire said, “What?” 

Mianning stared calmly back at Laurence, one eyebrow raised almost unnoticeably higher than the other. Laurence stared back with the realization lighting a fire of denial and indignation in his gut. 

“Absolutely not,” Laurence said, though it was more to himself. “No, it is months too early.” 

“It is only natural,” Mianning said with a certain ruthless unflappability that made Laurence glare. “This matter can wait. We will have the appropriate accommodations prepared for you at once.” 

Before Laurence could say another word, he had waved over the attendant servants and issued a series of quick, discreet orders. Li Jian twisted, still on his knees with his forehead barely lifting from the ground, to present himself to Laurence in turn, though he did not speak. The captain of the Li guard gave Laurence and the prince a respectful bow and made his exit, already calling out for guardsmen as he went. 

For his part, Hammond only stared in mild confusion and certain irritation. "It is most inconvenient for you to be in heat at present, Captain," he said. 

"Do you suppose I have done this on purpose, Mr. Hammond?" Laurence snapped, now recognizing his own agitation of the last several days. His cycle had been as regular as shipboard routine since he was eighteen, and to find himself now so blindsided by it when he'd just barely put the last cycle behind him was deeply unnerving. Li Jian shifted his weight and Laurence had to put a hand up to his mouth to stop another hiss from leaping out in response. 

"No, of course not!" Hammond was quick to answer, hands held up in surrender. "It is only wretched unfortunate timing when we are so close to real progress with the adoption."

"Do not think you can touch Laurence just because you are an alpha, and if you try, I shall squash you very slowly!" Temeraire warned Li Jian, and then lifted his head and moved to the side closer to Laurence. "Laurence, how dreadful. Should you like me to take you away? I will not let any alpha near you unless you say you should like it. Oh, but are you going to be quite alright saying you should not like it? Perhaps we should just go after all."

Laurence wanted very much to agree and be taken to some secluded mountain top until he was fit to control himself in public once more. He felt miserably exposed; more so than he had even that first morning parading through Dongguan with the collar burning against his chest. Yet, the thought of Temeraire witnessing him in that state sent a chilly knife of dispair through his gut. Reaching out, he set a hand on Temeraire’s nose. 

“No, Temeraire. I have survived cycles alone before, I will be perfectly well. Do not give Riggs too much grief in my absence, and Granby will likely return before I do.” He stepped closer to Temeraire’s side, taking advantage of his bulk to hide from the activity and the curious gazes of his crew. 

Laurence heard a noise behind him, and then Temeraire snarled and snaked an arm around him, pulling him away from the pavilion. Laurence realized only belatedly that Li Jian must have called attention to himself again, but he was too concerned with calming Temeraire to see what he had done. 

“My dear, I assure you that I am capable of my own defense, even in the midst of a cycle. No one will touch me if I do not wish them to do so.” Laurence did not say that he was perhaps _more_ capable of his own defense in a cycle when his self control was all but gone. He petted Temeraire until the snarling subsided into brief hiccups of noise, and then stopped altogether.

Now that he was aware of what was happening, he felt the itchy anxiety under his skin and the desire to be away from everyone, safe and out of sight. It was all he could do to remain calm to keep Temeraire calm. It was not much different than having to remain in command while suffering under the effects of his cycle. He had been forced to do so several times in his career when unavoidable circumstances, such as a battle or a storm, had not allowed him to hide in his cabin. 

“Li Laurence Tien,” a voice called respectfully. 

Laurence tried to see who it was, but Temeraire pulled him closer, one wing snapping out to cover him in a silver shell. “ _You_ may go away,” Temeraire told the speaker. 

“We have prepared rooms for your companion's comfort,” the speaker replied, seemingly unruffled to be so addressed by a twenty tonne dragon in the throes of a particularly possessive fit.

Temeraire hesitated, turning his head to bring Laurence in focus. “Would you like to go, Laurence?” 

“I think it would be for the best, Temeraire.” 

“Where is this room?” Temeraire asked suspiciously, lifting his head out from under his wing. “It cannot be so far inside that I cannot hear Laurence if he calls for me.” Without waiting for an answer, he ducked his head back down. “Laurence, perhaps we should have them build you a pavilion outside where I can remain and make sure you are left quite alone.” 

Laurence flushed painfully at the thought. “I beg you will not, Temeraire. As long as the room has a window, you will certainly be able to hear me call for you.” 

“The rooms are in an isolated building, honorable Lung Tien Xiang. There is an exterior door to each room.” 

“There, Temeraire. Are you satisfied?” Laurence asked, though he did not love the idea that Temeraire might be crouched outside the door listening in. “You must promise that you will not hover.”

“I do not hover,” Temeraire said indignantly. 

“Perish the thought,” Laurence replied, but he couldn’t keep the affection out of his voice as he continued running a hand down Temeraire’s face. 

After a time, Temeraire was convinced to take Laurence across the palace grounds to another guest house, where he was shown how to access the rooms that had been set aside for Laurence’s use. It was not merely a door, but one entire wall that could slide open, leaving Laurence with a nightmare image of Temeraire taking it upon himself to check in at an inopportune time. He painstakingly wrung a promise out of Temeraire that he wouldn’t try to interfere unless Laurence called for him, and then he shut himself away from the curious eyes of the servants and guardsmen. 

He tried to imagine a life where this would be normal for him, as it was for Li An Tien. Where he wouldn’t feel shame competing hotly in his chest for pride of place over the helplessness as he closed the door, knowing that every person in the palace was aware of where he was and why. Despite that, it was still worth it. Temeraire was outside the door, decidedly not hovering, and Laurence wouldn’t trade that for anything. 

The room was large but only scantily furnished. A chest in the corner had the box for his collar, a stack of clean, loose robes, and one of the neatly folded cloth collars set on top. The adjacent wall held a pitcher of water and a bowl of fruit, and a large bed was set to the wall opposite with a small table holding a bowl of oil. Otherwise, the room was bare of furnishing, though filled with piles of cushion and blankets, and the attached lavatory was similarly spartan in design.

Laurence removed the jingling collar and secured it in the box, but he did not replace it with the band of silk. He stripped off his outer layers and folded these neatly into the chest of drawers, but kept the rest of his clothing and sat on the bed to wait for the first wave to roll over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wang Bo-An is more commonly known in modern times as Wang Yangming, but I wasn't sure when that switch occurred in modern times. https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/wang-yangming/


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter, I ask for your indulgence (and a little faith) for the beginning!

The first shiver of lust woke him out of an uneasy sleep. He already had his hands sliding down his stomach and tangling in the ties of his trousers before he was even fully aware of his surroundings. The rush of orgasm was sharp enough to make him cry out, and he was kicking out of his clothing in frustrated misery even as the prickling aftershocks were still firing through his limbs. He turned onto his side and curled up, letting the twitches pass.

By the time the shocks had faded to occasional pin pricks of discomfort, the heat had built up again. Laurence could not readily remember the last time he’d been hit so quickly and sharply so early. He rolled through a second wave, and a third before the heat faded enough to leave him shaking with exhaustion. 

Laurence stumbled out of the bed as soon as he could get his legs underneath him. He paced a quick circle around the room, and then stopped long enough to wipe the sweat and seed off his skin. If the rest of the cycle continued on the same path, it might be the last time he had enough presence of mind to accomplish the task. 

A knock at the interior door made him pause, and then he flushed up with anger to be so disturbed. He could expect such disturbances onboard ship, but here, where his cycle had likely already been publicized in the local paper, he should have been able to expect some privacy. He grabbed one of the soft robes and pulled it hastily around his body. He yanked the door open and found three people waiting outside. Not three  _ people _ , two alphas and a beta. He stepped back automatically, feeling a strange tension creep up his spine at the sight of the alphas. Li Jian he recognized, just barely, but the other two were strangers. 

His three visitors stepped inside and stood in a line facing him, waiting. They were all undressed to the waist and beautiful. The woman, the alpha, bore all the signs of military service, and her physique coupled with her petite stature made her almost boyish. His eyes caught on the curve of her shoulder and he was reaching for her quite without thinking about it first. She rose up eagerly to meet his hand, drawing it insistently to cup one small breast. 

A moan tumbled out of her and ricocheted around the room. Li Jian swayed forward and Laurence caught him at once, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him in just to feel the heat of his body. He raised his mouth to Laurence's collarbone, and Laurence tilted his head back immediately to grant him access. The offering drew an almost pained sound out of Li Jian, and he scraped his teeth across Laurence's neck, tongue following in long, lathing stripes. Laurence had never been touched this way in a cycle before, and his skin was alive with it. 

The heat, having been temporarily abated, was slow to build. What would it be like to continue this way? Li Jian's hands on his hips, their mouths on him, the taste of them on his tongue, sinking into her warmth, filling that screaming aching emptiness.

The woman made a low growling sound and stepped into Laurence's other side, dislodging his hand as she pulled at the tie to his robe. He was hazy with slow burning want and full with the scent of them, and -

And he didn't even know her name. Of Li Jian, he had only a disparate collection of facts, most learned from Li An Tien. They'd never had a single private conversation. Of the woman, he knew even less, and he hadn't even taken a moment to look at the beta's face. 

Gasping in ragged breaths, Laurence forcefully pulled away from their seeking fingers. The woman tried to follow him, hands tightening in the fabric of the robe so it slid off one shoulder as Laurence turned with increasing haste to get away. His breath came in shallow, panicky grasps.

The beta stepped between Laurence and the two alphas, who encountered his broad back as though they had forgotten he was there at all. He was tall, Laurence saw now, as tall as Granby and thickly muscled. Laurence's eyes caught on the rounded plane of his chest and he stopped himself from reaching out only by gathering the robe closed again and busying his hands with the tie. 

The two alphas were growling now, eyes flicking almost nervously around the room. Laurence sidled past them to open the door once more and stepped out of the way.

"Thank you," he said hoarsely, and then gestured for the hallway beyond. 

There was a moment of confused stillness. Li Jian recovered first, perhaps from having been forced to recover himself once already that day. He nudged his female companion toward the door, catching at her when she lunged around the beta's bulk at Laurence. The beta stayed between them and Laurence as they went, and Laurence knew he should move further from the door to save them all from the temptation, but standing stiffly beside it was the best he could manage with the scent of them filling the room.

They passed beyond his reach only reluctantly, and Laurence had to physically restrain himself from reaching out to drag Li Jian back at the last moment. Outside the door, the beta bowed low and pulled the sliding panels closed. 

Laurence trembled faintly as he stood staring at the closed door. Heat was spooling through him again and he wanted them back - any or all of them. What did it matter? They had been the ones to offer, and how was it any different than his men paying for sex from people they would likely never see again? As soon as he left China, he would never see any of them again. 

Yet, if he managed to get a child on the woman, he would be leaving her to handle the consequences of his poor self control alone. And if she carried it to term, he would be very likely saddling a child he would never know with the life he'd been desperate to escape for a decade and a half. 

Except, the child would be raised in China. If they presented omega, they would be honored for it, not shunned. It wouldn't be so terrible, but for the fact that there would be a child of his blood in the world with whom he would have no contact. 

He could marry her. He suspected if he asked to marry her, she would be presented to him immediately in wedding clothes whether she liked to or not. 

It was the horror of the thought that shocked him out of the dangerous spiral. He spilled into his hand with a wrenching gasp and dropped to the floor, staring down at himself as though at a stranger. 

"I will not behave this way," he said fiercely. "As some indiscriminate animal."

Despite that warning to himself, he was already noting in the back of his mind that Li Jian could not be gotten pregnant, and Hammond had said that he was within his rights to command the attentions of an alpha if he wanted them.

"Good God." He had always been somewhat inclined to terrible fantasy in his cycle, and to noticing people that he should not, but never to such a fervent degree as to bring about any concern that he might be a danger to them. Of course, he had never had a pair of willing alphas waiting just outside his door during a cycle either. 

Pushing himself roughly back to his feet, he dragged the chest over to barricade the door. As the door slid open to either side, the chest was meant for nothing but to frustrate him if he took it to mind to go after his -  _ the _ alphas outside it. Grabbing the soft collar from the top of the chest and the pitcher of water, Laurence retreated to the bed. The water, he set on the floor, hopefully out of harm's way. 

He had not been forced to gag himself since he had made post and had his own cabin to hide in, but it had not always been so. As an officer sharing a crowded room with several others, he had made a habit of gagging himself at night to prevent any outcry that might reveal his orientation, even when he was not in cycle to make it less suspicious. He had far preferred being known as an eccentric than the alternative. 

Gripping the fine silk in both hands, he pushed it into his mouth and tied it somewhat roughly behind his head. He could not trust that he wouldn't call out for them, and he was certain they would come at once if he did. If he had them back in the room, he was not sure he could ask them to leave again.

Unwinding the long silk tie from his waist, he swiftly secured one ankle to the bedpost. It would not prevent any concerted attempt at escape, and he felt sure that even in the depths of the cycle's madness, he could free himself if needed. Hopefully, it would be enough to bring him back to his senses if he tried to go after them in person. 

Thus restrained, he dropped back on the bed and took himself to hand again. Aware of their presence now, he could hear them outside the door, thumps and gasps and low growls, words, maybe, but breathless and beyond his comprehension. He reached out blindly for the oil and shoved his fingers roughly into himself. The scrape of pain only made him moan against the gag. 

Outside the door, an answering sound, a scuffle of movement, an aborted shout. Laurence pulled against the tie, making the bed frame rattle sharply, and used the tension to thrust into his hand, his own muffled sounds driving him onward, hips lifting off the bed, orgasm building like gathering waves until he was swamped under it, senseless, drowning. 

The wave retreated, and he was left to drift, for the moment only warm rather than burning, muscles loose and urgency faded to a low murmur. He closed his eyes to take advantage of the lassitude and slept. 

~*~

When he came finally, fully to himself, it was as though waking from a long illness. He had little memory after securing himself to the bed, but he was shaking with muscle fatigue and his skin pulled unpleasantly with every motion. He was in desperate need of a bath, but his first attempt at sitting upright resulted in his body locking up spectacularly. He collapsed back to the bed, breathing raggedly around the gag while his muscles spasmed and twitched. 

He must have fallen back to sleep. The next time he opened his eyes, Li An Tien was standing over him, incongruous streams of tears running down both cheeks. Laurence watched him in return, not sure if he was dreaming, or, for that matter, why he would dream such a thing to begin with. Li An Tien cleared his throat and used his sleeve to wipe the tears away. He sat delicately on the edge of the bed and reached out to untie the gag. It had gotten tangled in Laurence’s hair, and it was the work of a number of patient minutes for Li An Tien to get it free without taking several handfuls of hair with it. 

Once it was finally removed, Laurence worked his jaw gratefully. The tie had cut into the corners of his lips at some point. They stung with every motion, and his mouth was sticky with dehydration and tasted foul. He had not missed having to use the gag, but he also did not remember the after effects being quite so severe. From the headache and the general state of his body, he hadn’t managed much water, and may very well have not have removed the gag to drink at all since putting it on. 

As though reading his mind, Li An Tien offered him a cup and helped him sit up enough to take it. His shoulders burned with the effort of holding it up, and his arms trembled at the strain. The first swallow stung going down and hit his empty stomach like a blow, but he kept the second sip in his mouth and let it trickle down his throat. Thirst was no stranger to any sailor, and he knew how to convince his body to take it. 

“How long?” he asked once he could force his tongue to produce the words. 

Li An Tien watched him carefully as he answered, “A night and a day.” 

Laurence stared uncomprehendingly. “Certainly not.” His cycle had not lasted less than five days since he was eighteen and it had finally settled into a predictable pattern. What little he could remember of it was the worst he’d had since that first cycle when he hadn't realized what was happening and had been sure he was dying. That he could have gotten himself into such a state in a single day was absurd. 

“It was a false heat,” Li An Tien explained. 

“The devil it was!”

Smiling despite himself, Li An Tien said, “In my experience, they are far more intense, though shorter. I should have expected something of the sort with my own cycle imminent, Lung Tien Xiang’s not long passed, and the stress you have been under recently. I emerged in the early hours of the morning and realized what must have happened, though I never would have dreamed that you might do something like this to yourself.” He held up the gag in illustration, frowning deeply. 

“I could not trust myself,” Laurence said. He shifted so he was sitting upright on his own. His joints ached from staying in one position so long, and the motion tugged on the silk cord still tying him to the bed. At least he’d had the presence of mind to tie a knot that would not slip, and it hadn’t strangled the limb. 

“You needn’t have suffered this alone. If you did not want an alpha, at least the beta could have seen to your care.” 

“I do not need to be ‘cared for’ like a pet,” Laurence snapped, still feeling some residual irritation from the cycle.

“Is that how you see me?” Li An Tien demand. “As an animal? Because I choose what comfort I can manage over this… this self-brutality?”

“I did not say that,” Laurence protested.

“You did.” 

“You chose your company, your  _ comfort _ , beforehand,” Laurence reminded him. “You know them, presumably you trust them. I had two complete strangers and a man I know by name only presented to me when I would be most vulnerable to their influence. Need I also say that you have never needed to worry for your safety with an alpha, when the only alpha I have known before your brother would have happily made me a slave to torture for his own pleasure, and very nearly succeeded in doing just that.” 

Laurence was breathing heavily and Li An Tien was pale by the end of the outburst. He had drawn away from the bed, the mangled gag clutched, forgotten, in one hand. 

“So, yes,” Laurence continued in a more measured tone, “it was necessary. I did not ask you to be here. If I have upset you in my person, then you may leave, and I will endeavor to make myself less offensive to your sensibilities in the interim.” 

He stopped when he realized that Li An Tien had started to cry in earnest. For a blistering moment, Laurence hated him for never knowing the fear that he had labored under the whole of his adult life, that had informed his every decision, colored every relationship, every interaction. 

“You are correct,” Li An Tien said finally. “I apologize. I will depart if you prefer, though I would consider it a favor if you would at least allow me to untie you before I go.” He bowed more deeply than Laurence had seen him offer to anyone else. 

“Do not do that, please,” Laurence said, all at once merely tired again. A moment ago, he would have gladly thrown Li An Tien bodily from the room himself, but he found that he was reluctant to be alone if he did not have to be. He had always been forced to recover himself in the same solitude that he suffered under during the cycle, but, in this, he was more than willing to depart from his own unhappy tradition. Some reminder of his humanity would be welcome, and there was a kind of whispering calm with Li An Tien beside him that had been absent in the week that the man had been in seclusion. “You have my apology as well, and I would be grateful for the company if you can withstand my own at present.” 

Li An Tien nodded. “May I free you from your restraints?” he asked, reaching out for the tie. At Laurence’s nod, he sat down once again and cupped a hand around the knot. With an almost grudging air, he said, “Elegantly done.”

“I was a sailor for eighteen years before I was Temeraire’s captain. If there is one thing I can manage even in the depths of madness, it is a knot.” To both his confusion and pleasure, Li An Tien choked out a startled laugh and colored, the pale pink flushing over the tops of his cheeks and touching the tips of his ears.

It was a strange jump from the anger he’d felt moments before to this companionable conversation. Made stranger still by his decided lack of anything resembling dignity or clothing, while Li An Tien was as well put together as ever. If he had ever considered it, he would have never thought that he would be comfortable having anyone else in the room when he was in such a deplorable state, but Li An Tien fit neatly and unobtrusively into his space.

The knot slid loose at last, and Laurence winced as he drew his knee up. He must have been pulling at it most of the day. The flesh of his ankle was red and abraded and the joint ached dully when he moved it, but it took his weight readily, and there did not seem to be any lasting damage. 

Doing his best to ignore the pang of shame at having an audience to the disaster he had made of his body, Laurence moved at once for the attached lavatory. A complicated system of pipes and a lavishly decorated boiler in the corner was coaxed to provide him with hot water in only a few minutes. Temeraire would marvel over it, and it reminded Laurence of the devices used to heat the pavilions. While the copper tub filled, he sat on the stool set by a drain in the floor and scrubbed vigorously at his skin, rinsing away sweat, oil, and dried seed, and then repeating the process until his skin stung. 

He was just lowering himself into the tub when Li An Tien appeared with an armful of cloth. Laurence felt a brief gust of a cool breeze and realized that Li An Tien must have opened a window in the main room to air it out. He wrinkled his nose in distaste at the scent that was made apparent by the burst of fresh air and ducked to avoid Li An Tien’s eyes, grabbing the soap again. 

Li An Tien set his burden down and held a hand out. “May I?” 

Laurence hesitated, but finally handed the soap over to dunk his head under the near-scalding water. He did his best not to flinch away with only middling success, but Li An Tien did not pause or seem to take offense, and Laurence unwound very slowly as the man worked the lather through his hair. He had not had anyone wash his hair since before he’d left for the sea at twelve. It was an odd, though not altogether unpleasant sensation, and Li An Tien was obviously quite accustomed to performing the task. 

After a long moment of quiet punctuated only by the slick sounds of the soap between Li An Tien’s hair, Laurence cleared his throat, struggling to summon up a topic of conversation. Li An Tien was no help whatsoever, apparently absorbed in his task. 

“I encountered a Kang Xifeng Tien while you were away,” Laurence said with relief, and then abruptly remembered where he had heard the name  _ Kang _ before. Li An Tien had mentioned, off hand, that the Kang and… some other clan, the Fai? Had complained of Laurence being adopted by the Li clan. 

Li An Tien’s hands stilled briefly in his hair, and then resumed, working patiently through tangles. “Oh?” 

Laurence recounted his conversation with the older omega. Li An Tien listened patiently with none of the interruptions that Laurence had grown used to from Hammond. When he had concluded the report, Li An Tien remained quiet a moment longer. 

“Were you impressed by her?” he asked curiously. 

Laurence frowned. “I would not say  _ impressed _ , exactly. She certainly had a way about her,” he said politely. In fact, he’d found her nearly intolerable, but he was hardly going to disparage the character of a lady he’d met only briefly.

Sounding amused, Li An Tien said, “She does at that. I must apologize again, I find. When I knew my cycle was close, I should have summoned my uncle or another omega from our clan to stay with you. You did respond to her as well as can be hoped.” 

“So there was some political maneuvering that I missed.” Laurence brought a hand up and rubbed wearily at his eyes. 

Li An Tien made an affirmative noise in the back of his throat. “She was attempting to… lure you away, I suppose is how to describe it. Or at the very least, make it seem that you were willing to be lured. The Kang clan are staunch supporters of Prince Yongxing, and they would be well-served by having stolen you from us.” 

Laurence pondered that for a moment. “Is that common?” 

“Not at all,” Li An Tien said casually enough to convey the seriousness of the situation. 

If she had not tricked him with the bow in the beginning of their interaction, Laurence may have thought nothing whatsoever of taking her up on her offer of a visit to the Kang estate, any more than he would have thought anything of accepting an invitation of a gentleman he met at another’s party. 

“If you had appeared at her door, she very well may have prevented you from leaving again,” Li An Tien explained delicately. “And by your presence in her home, secured Lung Tien Xiang’s cooperation as well.” 

Laurence snorted. “If by his cooperation you mean the certain destruction of her villa and a great deal of noise besides,” he said confidently. 

Li An Tien seemed to find the statement shocking, but after a moment, he chuckled. The sound was full of relief that Laurence was surprised to find he liked very much to hear. He hadn’t realized that he had been tense over the situation with Kang Xifeng Tien, concerned that he had badly misstepped. 

“The Kang are a very large clan and Kang Xifeng Tien is not accustomed to being denied. I wish I had seen the look on her face,” Li An Tien admitted. 

Laurence asked, “How many omegas are in the Li clan? If I may inquire.” 

“Of course you may; you are a member of the clan. With you, we have thirty-seven omegas, and forty-two alphas. Our betas number in the hundreds, and we have eight children who have not yet presented. None of them are mine, if you are curious.” 

Laurence shifted under Li An Tien’s hands. “I certainly would not have asked.” The notion having been brought up, however, he found himself very curious indeed. Li An Tien seemed to be about his age, or perhaps even a little older, and had apparently had plenty of opportunities to sire children if he wished. Laurence didn’t press the question, and Li An Tien did not volunteer any further information. 

“We are ranked third in size among the omega clans. The Kang are the largest, and below them the Dai. The Dai are not explicitly arrayed against us at present, though relations between our three clans have always been somewhat strained.” 

Li An Tien picked up a pitcher and filled it with clean water. He poured it over Laurence’s hair, surprising him somewhat by directing the water over the side of the tub and onto the floor. He repeated the process, and then poured a small measure of oil into his hands to run through Laurence’s hair. 

“Your hair has such an interesting texture, and a lovely color. It is darker underneath,” he noted, twisting the strands between his fingers curiously. 

“It lightens in the sun,” Laurence explained, not entirely sure of how else to respond. 

Li An Tien hummed and picked up a comb. “Had you ever met another omega before me?” He asked after a silence that was lengthy enough to let Laurence know he had been steeling himself to ask.

Laurence did not answer immediately. The unspoken custom not to reveal another omega tugged at him. It was a custom that had saved his life and his career both numerous times, and it was difficult to set aside, even if he did not mean to give a name.

“Yes,” he said finally, and then cleared his throat. “Though I had never had a private conversation with another omega before you.” 

Li An Tien’s hands slowed, fingers tangling briefly in the locks. “Never? On any subject?” 

“Never,” Laurence affirmed. He remembered the first omega he had seen shortly after presenting. She was the wife of an admiral, though that gentleman had thankfully been away at the time, and she had been hosting a dinner for a number of sea officers under the watchful eye of her husband’s friend. Laurence had seen her across the room in her matronly gown and the ugly hound’s collar, and he had known at once that she was like him. Not merely known, as he would have from the collar, but  _ known _ . 

When she had turned and met his eyes, he had been so panicked by the knowledge in them that he had barely made it outside in time to be violently ill in a hedge. He had been excused with the explanation of his recent fever and sent back to the ship. Further giving credence to a lingering illness, he had vomited several more times that night from the anxiety alone, certain that she would give away his horrible secret, that even as he hung miserably over the side, an alpha was rowing out to tear him away from the ship and clap a collar about his throat. 

Staring down at the water, he had thought that he would rather drown than be taken and made into some alpha’s pet, and, for a truly terrible moment, he had contemplated jumping over the side. Certainly, an eternity in hell could not have been worse than that fate.

He had fallen asleep at some point while waiting for the captain and the other officers to return knowing him for what he was. When he woke, he had instead found that the lady had sent her regrets for his ill health and wishes for a speedy recovery. She had included a packet of sweets for him and a personal note reading only,  _ Perhaps, in the morning, things will not seem so bleak. _ It was as close as anyone had ever come to acknowledging his orientation, and he had recognized both the apology and the pity in it. 

Other than her, he had met or seen from a distance perhaps a dozen omegas. Some had looked to his uncollared throat with envy, others with a kind of triumph, but he had never sought a private audience with them nor been applied to for one. Even Lenton, who had given him such a hard look of understanding that Laurence had been sure that he could have pulled the older omega aside for a conversation in safety, had not tried to get him alone.

“Before meeting you, I do not think I had ever slept alone a single night, or gone even the length of a day without being in contact with another omega. Not since I presented, in any event,” Li An Tien said softly. 

“I am sorry. You must have been lonely these last weeks,” Laurence said, drawing out of the unhappy memory. That, at least, did put an explanation to his habit of being in Laurence’s personal space and the frequent attempts at touch.

“I have been,” Li An Tien agreed. He pulled Laurence’s hair back in a queue and tied it with a red silk ribbon. “You have been lonely all your life.” 

“One cannot be lonely for companionship that one has never known,” Laurence said. “I have had my crews and my officers, my service, and, of course, Temeraire. I have not felt the lack.” And yet, even as he said so, he knew that he would in future. When they left China, he would be once again isolated, perhaps even more so with his crew all aware, and certainly once they made it back to England. With a strange melancholy, he realized that he would miss Li An Tien, and he would miss being known for what he was without fear of the loss of his personal liberty. 

“I believe I understand you better,” Li An Tien said softly. His fingers drifted across the back of Laurence’s neck before withdrawing. “Would you like to remain a while?”

Laurence stretched and shifted to stand. “No, I would like some fresh air and to see Temeraire.” He accepted a sheet to dry off and looked curiously at Li An Tien. “How did you know that I had come out of the cycle?” 

Li An Tien shrugged, looking somewhat bemused. “I simply knew. I suppose it was some… scent, or a change in the pressure in the air. Of course,” he added when Laurence would have been perfectly well satisfied with the answer, “the pile of exhausted alphas sleeping outside your door did help.” 

Freezing with the sheet pulled partly around his body, Laurence said, “They did not remain the entire time!”

“Of course they did, and would have stayed a week if needed.”

Laurence felt a pang of guilt that he pushed insistently away. He had not invited them, and he had not told them to stay out in the hall. They could have left at any time, or not come at all, and he could not be held responsible for their discomfort if they had chosen otherwise.

Li An Tien helped him dress without a word, moving comfortably around him after all the mornings playing valet. He had brought a Western-style ensemble for him, though not Laurence’s uniform, and predictably touched with embroidery and gemstones. Re-clothed and clean, Laurence felt a bit more like himself, and he turned readily when Li An Tien presented the collar, bowing his head to accept it. Li An Tien clipped it behind Laurence’s neck and smoothed it over his chest.

“I believe Lung Tien Xiang is at the night’s entertainment. I thought that you might appreciate a moment to clean up before he was opening the door to pull you out. He likely expects you to be under some days yet.” 

Laurence felt a pulse of gratitude. He could only imagine Temeraire’s response to opening the door and finding Laurence bound and gagged on the bed. “You thought correctly. Thank you. I am sure he will appreciate the surprise.” 

The alphas and the beta who had visited him the day before were thankfully absent when they opened the door to step into the hallway. Li An Tien walked beside him in companionable silence, their socked feet whispering on the floor and collars making a musical counterpoint to the steps. Laurence was surprised to find that he was not unhappy to have the weight back on his chest. He remembered again Lady Addington’s unlovely leather collar with the ring on the front where a lead might be clipped and shivered faintly. She had been gently born, and was not old when Laurence had seen her, perhaps being only in her thirties, but the paleness of her skin and the drawn look in her eyes had aged her many decades beyond that. It had been her face that had haunted his nightmares when he’d thought on the prospect of being collared.

Laurence’s boots were waiting beside Li An Tien’s slippers at the door. They had been blacked and polished to a high shine, and the buttons had been replaced with small gold medallions stamped with the Li clan’s lotus flower. He looked at Li An Tien sideways, but he seemed unaware that anything was not exactly as it ought to be. Laurence sighed and pulled the tall boots on, noting as he did that the heels had been repaired and small golden accents had been added to the backs of each. He saw Temeraire’s influence in the adornments and brushed a thumb over one of them. The Li clan was obviously happy to indulge him, and Temeraire would have him clothed head to toe in gold if Laurence did not find a way to curb it. 


	13. Chapter Twelve

The path out of the secluded guest house was empty, but lit with colored lanterns, and the air was pleasant. Laurence still felt shaky and a little agitated, but the cool air was doing wonders for his nerves. As they neared the break in the wall that would allow them back into the main courtyard, Laurence heard the clatter of crashing cymbals and the shouts of the acrobats Temeraire loved so. He was as deeply uncomfortable with the notion that his unexpected cycle had been turned into a kind of celebration as he had been with the idea of Li An Tien’s being so treated, but he did have to admit that having Temeraire distracted had been nothing but beneficial in the circumstances.

Laurence caught a flash of movement as they came to the gate and automatically put a hand up to stop Li An Tien’s progress. A man stepped into the light and froze on seeing them. He was a beta and stripped to the waist, as Laurence’s visitors had been. From the startled look on his face, it was plainly clear that the man both recognized Laurence on sight and had not expected to see him outside of the room.

Something about his stance had Laurence reaching for the sword he wasn’t carrying. The stranger exploded into motion at once, a knife appearing in his hand as though by magic. He surged forward, driving Laurence back through the gate. Reaching out automatically, Laurence pushed Li An Tien out of the way, and then lost track of him beyond his startled shout.

Having now given up subtlety, the assassin charged Laurence with more speed and ferocity than skill, but Laurence was so taken by surprise that he hardly needed skill in those first desperate moments. The knife flashed in the lamplight, and then a burst of alarmed heat bloomed in his leg as Laurence deflected the knife from his chest and it buried instead in the meat of his thigh.

Rage surged through him, and Laurence ripped the blade from his leg. He yelled out his fury and frustration and pain as he bowled the would-be assassin backward. He heard Li An Tien shouting, but it was as though he were still locked in his cycle and could comprehend nothing over the rush of blood in his ears. 

His attacker fell backwards under Laurence’s greater weight and scrambled quickly to regain his feet. He had evidently been prepared to deal with an omega in the grips of heat, entirely vulnerable. Finding himself facing a competent fighter with nearly two decades of combat experience was obviously beyond his abilities, but he was not unskilled and managed to stay out of reach of the blade while making light contact with fast blows. Laurence swept the knife around, aiming for the throat, but his opponent delivered a lightning fast strike to his wrist, sending the blade spinning off into the darkness.

Laurence was well accustomed to battle lust, and it was not even the first time he’d had to fight with the thunder of his cycle driving his blood up. He struggled to bring it under control, being mindful that he was bleeding and even the light blows could accumulate in significant damage. He traded each punch back with interest, throwing the whole of his greater weight into powerful swings in an attempt to end the conflict quickly. He was rewarded for his efforts with a crunch of ribs breaking under his fist and a scream of pain. They stumbled together down the path, grappling and shoving more than they managed to pull away to do any further damage to each other. 

The roar in his ears abruptly cut out as the injured man struck out hard with a spinning kick that drove Laurence off his feet. The man’s comparatively slight weight landed on Laurence’s chest, forcing the air out of his lungs. Strong hands gripped his throat, pushing cravat and collar alike into the delicate skin of his neck. Laurence gasped for breath and kicked out, trying to unseat his opponent without success. 

“Prince Yongxing will drive you and all your filthy countrymen into the sea!” The man yelled in garbled English as he squeezed, his toes digging into Laurence’s thighs to prevent him from getting purchase. 

Laurence did hear a roar then, but not the blood in his ears - a real roar. Temeraire’s roar. With a great heave of effort, Laurence thrust his hips upward and then dropped them sharply down, using the momentum to throw the much lighter man clear. He sucked in great gulps of air even as he scrambled to get a grip on his opponent. 

Suddenly, there were more hands pulling at him, and Laurence struck out blindly before recognizing Granby. He looked over to see that Fellows had the assassin crushed to his chest with his massive arms wrapped around the man’s torso to hold him still. 

“I broke at least one of his ribs,” Laurence gasped, still holding his burning throat with one hand and coughing violently between words. “Take care that you do not kill him, Mr. Fellows.” 

“Aye, Captain,” Fellows said, dropping back in the dirt so he could wrap his legs around the violently struggling man. 

“Where is Temeraire?” 

Granby pointed upward, his expression grim. Laurence followed the line of his finger and saw a flash of movement against the greater darkness of the night sky. In another moment, a flicker of white, and Laurence understood. He looked around to realize that the struggle had taken Laurence and his attacker into the midst of the gathered residents of the palace. A troupe of acrobats stared at Laurence in open-mouthed shock. On the opposite side of an elaborately arranged stage, Prince Yongxing had his head tilted back to follow the progress of the two fighting Celestials, though Laurence did not imagine he could see much else in the darkness than Laurence could himself. 

A rush of movement drew Laurence’s attention, and a mass of Li guards and Zheng’s crew ran into the square. At their head, Li Jian looked like he had been just rolled out of bed, his hair wild and clothing disheveled. Laurence was both shocked and annoyed to feel a weak pulse of desire at the sight of him, and shook his head sharply to clear it. With the assistance of Granby’s shoulder, he was able to get to his feet just as Xiaqing landed with Li An Tien and the rest of Laurence’s crew. Li An Tien was set directly into the protective circle of the guards with Laurence while the aviators joined the rather overpopulated ring of protectors. 

“Did he harm you?” Li An Tien asked, reaching immediately for Laurence’s face. When Laurence pulled out of reach, he made a frustrated noise, but was distracted by the sight of the blood now thoroughly well-soaked through Laurence’s trousers. 

Laurence tried to wave him off, but there was shortly a physician he didn’t recognize kneeling at his feet, prodding at the wound as best as he could through the fabric. Laurence did not waste his breath on protests. He strained his sight upward, trying to follow the fight through the brief flashes of Lien’s more readily visible hide, and the occasional shadows he thought must be Temeraire. 

A moment later, the circle opened up, and Prince Mianning was admitted to its protection. Laurence inclined his head, but the warning fire in his throat held any words at bay, and he was far more concerned for Temeraire than he was with the customs of royalty.

“All assembled heard this villain’s confession,” Mianning said in an undertone. Still trapped in Fellow’s arms, the villain in question moaned in denial and renewed his struggles, for which he was dealt a sharp blow to the temple that left him stunned. 

Before Laurence could attempt any manner of response, there was a great roar of noise, and then Temeraire tumbled out of the sky. He landed atop the vacated stands that had been set up along one side of the stage, tailing lashing in irritation more than pain, crushing them under his weight. The rest of the crowd scattered with shrill cries of alarm, and every person in the square flinched away from the devastation of the stands and the flying debris. Temeraire spun, hissing in search of Yongxing, but was not able to take more than one step toward the prince before Lien came roaring down at him. 

Temeraire launched up to meet her, just barely getting far enough off the ground to open his wings, the pair of them twisting in a furious confusion of talons and teeth. 

“The stage-!” Granby cried, but too late. In the time it took Laurence to realize that the stage had been destabilized by the backlash of the two dragon’s wings, it was already collapsing. The whole of the temporary construction went with a great thunder of noise, splinters flying wildly into the square.

A collective gasp issued from the crowd and Laurence followed the startled gazes to see Yongxing standing stiffly with a great spear of wood protruding from his left eye. He toppled backwards like a felled tree, and was quite dead before he even hit the ground. 

“Temeraire!” Laurence called, though it came out barely a whisper and cracked badly in the middle. “Temeraire!” he tried again. There could be no reason for the dragons to continue the fight now, when it had been certainly begun by Temeraire trying to enact his promised revenge on Yongxing.

Before he could make a third attempt, Granby was bellowing upward at full volume, and then was joined by the rest of the crew, calling out in one great voice. Temeraire swept out of the darkness and landed behind the mob of guards. Even as Temeraire was reaching into the knot of people to pick Laurence up, Lien came down more gracefully, hovering over Yongxing’s body. She made a low, wretched noise of grief that brought out an answering flinch in Laurence’s breast. Without bringing her weight down to the ground, she gently lifted her companion’s lifeless body and flew back into the night. 

“Laurence,” Temeraire crooned. “Laurence, you are hurt. Where is that man? I will kill him at once!”

Laurence tried to protest, but his voice simply would not answer. The physician had come with him by simple virtue of clinging to his legs, and was even then tearing through his pants and binding the knife wound, but there was no one else Laurence could signal to be his voice. He reached out unsteadily in an attempt to get Temeraire’s attention, but he needn’t have worried.

Mianning stepped fearlessly between Temeraire and Laurence’s barely conscious attacker. He calmly explained that the man had to be questioned before he could be dealt with appropriately for his crimes. 

This was an argument that did not bid fair to sway Temeraire in the least until Mianning pointed out that there might be more such assassins lying in wait, and the one in their possession was their only hope of finding anyone else who might mean Laurence harm. Temeraire acquiesced to this logic only grudgingly, but he growled so viciously in his denied rage that even Laurence’s own crew shied away from him.

In another moment, Keynes had been retrieved from the crowd, and Laurence was deposited on Temeraire’s back with both physicians. 

“Needed the match set, did you?” Keynes asked as he examined his counterpart’s quick work and pronounced it passable. Crisis passed and adrenaline fading fast, Laurence closed his eyes and let the darkness carry him off. 

~*~

When Laurence woke, he found that he had been cleaned of blood, dressed in a nightgown, and the wound on his thigh had been stitched and bandaged, all while he was unaware. The job must have been done by the Li medical personnel, as one of the soft collars had also been secured about his throat. 

His leg protested vociferously to standing, but it was not as bad as the injury the other leg had taken in that final battle before they’d left for China. He managed to shave, and was bathed and half dressed by the time one of the Chinese surgeons came in to check on him. The man made a noise of protest and rushed forward as though Laurence would collapse at any moment. He hovered anxiously, pleading in Chinese for Laurence to sit down. 

“The injury is not…” Laurence tried in Chinese, wincing at the painful burn in his abused throat, and then repeated, “The injury is not very - it is not...poorly - damnit, what is the word?” he asked the air, and then settled for, “It is not bad.”

He made a gesture for the man to leave, but the surgeon interpreted this only as far as moving a few steps away and hovering anxiously from a slightly greater distance. Laurence endeavored to ignore him and got his shirt over his head. He did have to admit that the robes would have been more convenient for the leg wound, but he had reached for his trousers without thought, and he was not about to take them off again with an audience in order to redress. 

“I should like to know what fae creature I pissed off enough to get saddled with a patient like you,” Keynes complained as he stepped into the room. He took in Laurence’s state of half dress, and then rolled his eyes heavenward. “Well, now that you’ve gotten that far, you may kindly take it back off again so I can examine the wound.”

“Mr. Keynes-”

“And keep your mouth shut, if you please, Captain,” Keynes said. This was forward even for his direct manner, and Laurence gaped at him. “Well, at least silence will do if we cannot have your teeth touching together.” 

Behind him, the Chinese surgeon was staring in blatant shock. He looked between Laurence and Keynes as though he suspected Laurence was about to order the surgeon’s head clean off his shoulders. The thought banished the building sense of indignation, and Laurence obligingly opened the laces on his trousers and let them fall down. Keynes pulled a chair over for him, and Laurence sat slowly, though his leg gave out at the last moment and he fell the remaining short distance to the seat. 

“Mmhm,” Keynes hummed with a pointed look as he knelt. He pushed the tails of Laurence’s shirt out of the way and propped his knee up on a cushion to access the bandages more easily. “The blade was sharp, and thankfully does not appear to have been poisoned this time. It went in and out cleanly, and you did not lose so much blood. All the same, do take some care with it. The other one already gives you fits, we can’t have you with both so inclined to be troublesome.” 

“I-”

“I did say not to speak, did I not?” Keynes interrupted, shooting a look up at him. “The throat was certainly the worst of the injuries, and you may damage your voice permanently if you are not careful. At least for the rest of the day, you are not to utter a single word except in the utmost extremis. And by that,” he added with a very pointed look up at Laurence’s mouth, already parted to protest, “I mean only if someone else should try to kill you again. And that great heavy collar of yours can stay in its box for the day. They nearly strung me up last night when I tried to refuse this bit of silly frippery, so I suppose that will have to remain.”

He directed one thumb over his shoulder at the now glaring surgeon, and then made a broad gesture to the cloth collar Laurence had left on the table while he’d shaved. 

“It’s as well you have it off now. Tip your head back.” He rose to his feet as Laurence complied and felt gently around his neck. Laurence had seen the deep purple bruising in the mirror as he’d shaved and had felt again his attacker’s long fingers about his neck. Even through the cravat, there was a faint impression of the elaborate design of the collar pressed into the bruises. 

“Hmm.” Keynes cupped Laurence’s jaw and pulled down at his chin with both thumbs. Laurence squirmed uncomfortably, but opened his mouth and let Keynes peer in while the Chinese surgeon behind him made a noise like he was about to explode from outrage. “Well, from what little I can see, it’s not so terrible on the inside, just very red. Taste any blood?” 

Laurence started to answer, but a sharp tap to his jaw reminded him not to, and he shook his head. 

“You know, it is much more convenient when one’s patient is large enough to simply walk into his mouth and take a look, but I suppose that will have to do. Must I muzzle you to remind you not to speak?” 

The Li surgeon’s gasp revealed that the man had at least some English and he had not been responding only to the tone of Kayne’s voice. Laurence glared up at Keynes hotly. The corners of his lips still stung whenever he moved his mouth, and while he accepted Keynes’ irreverent manners as the price of having such an accomplished surgeon for Temeraire’s sake, that was pushing the boundaries too far. 

“Withdrawn,” Keynes said, holding his hands up placatingly, for once, his expression tinging with embarrassment. He dug into his bag and brought out a small glass pot. “For the lips,” he said simply, and then made a mocking bow to his Chinese counterpart and left the room with no more ceremony than that. 

In a flurry of agitation, the Chinese surgeon came forward. He checked the wound on Laurence’s thigh again and re-wrapped it, despite the bandages still being pristine. Laurence suspected it was more of a jab intended at Keynes and merely sighed. While the bandage was being replaced, Laurence opened the pot and sniffed experimentally at the salve inside. It smelled pleasantly of rosemary, and brought almost instant relief to his dry lips and the cuts in the corners.

Seeing him apply it, the surgeon reached up and plucked it out of his hands. He eyed it suspiciously, sniffing it himself and rubbing a portion of it between his fingers. Grudgingly, he handed it back and returned to the bandage without comment. 

Task completed, the surgeon retrieved the cloth collar and offered it to Laurence with his head bowed. Laurence stifled an annoyed sound and tied it loosely about his neck in place of the cravat. The surgeon stared down at him expectantly while Laurence waited for him to back away enough that he might stand and bring his trousers back up. Keynes’ prescribed vocal rest was already being put to the test, and Laurence was ready to break when Granby stepped into the room. 

Seeing the strange tableau, Granby offered the surgeon a shallow bow and suggested, in Chinese far outstripping Laurence’s own, that Laurence might like some privacy. The surgeon left only reluctantly, and Laurence nodded his thanks as he pushed out of the chair to finish dressing. Without being asked, Granby brought him the modified uniform coat and helped him into it. 

“Keynes has announced to all and sundry that he’ll have you locked away in seclusion if you say so much as a single word, so I won’t ask how you’re feeling,” Granby said once the coat had been settled over his shoulders and brushed down. Laurence glared at him, which only garnered him a short laugh and no pity whatsoever. 

“Temeraire has been asking after you already, of course, and there is some kind of commotion out in the courtyard. There is a great gaggle of people out there, and Li An Tien is all but holding them off with a stick.”

Laurence looked over at him questioningly, but he did not seem alarmed, only amused. 

Granby shrugged to show he had no more information than that, and asked, “Do you feel up to seeing to it, or shall I have Temeraire chase them away? He’s still quite cross he didn’t get to kill that man last night, and I think he’d be more than happy to do it.”

Laurence put a hand up to his forehead and rubbed at one temple. He drew in a breath to speak, stopped at Granby’s hiked eyebrow, and nodded. 

“Very good, sir,” Granby said. He stepped out into the hall, giving Laurence a moment to pull his hair back and steel himself for the day. 

Laurence opened the box on the table that held a number of silk ties, and noticed for the first time that there were three new boxes beside it, each painted a deep blue and inlaid with a lotus flower in mother of pearl. He opened them curiously to find three nearly identical bracelet cuffs that might have been a twin to his collar. He frowned at them, uncertain as to what he was supposed to do with them, or why he would need three when the differences between them were nearly undetectable. 

The mystery would have to be put aside until his throat had healed enough to demand an explanation. He tied his hair back, gave his reflection a cursory examination, and stepped into the hall where Granby was waiting with one arm already extended. 

Laurence would have glared at the presumption, but his injured leg gave out immediately on the first stair, and he would have tumbled down the length of them if not for Granby’s fast reflexes. Laurence directed his glare instead at the offending injury and kept one hand on the wall as they descended.

‘A gaggle’ had not been an exaggeration, and Li An Tien did look like he would have liked to have a long spear as he stood solidly in front of the door to the guest house, but his voice was polite while he explained to the assembled crowd that they were certainly not going to be allowed into the house. As soon as Laurence appeared behind him, however, the clamor increased dramatically. 

“I see you are awake and even on both feet,” Li An Tien said with a look at Granby that Laurence could not interpret and that Granby ignored. Li An Tien sighed softly and gestured at the mass of people. “They are here to see to your wardrobe.” 

“My what-” Laurence managed before his voice cracked and he was forced to stop. 

Smiling with a hint of wickedness in the corners, Li An Tien said, “You are about to be adopted after all.” 

~*~

With Yongxing’s death, the opposition to the “rumors” of Laurence’s adoption evaporated, quite literally, overnight and had been confirmed in the early hours of the morning. As Laurence had witnessed before, once the command had been issued by the emperor, the prevaricating and heel dragging vanished, and all was suddenly a swirling chaos of activity. 

Laurence was loaded into a palanquin, the use of which Temeraire promptly negated by picking it up and insisting on carrying it himself. Laurence was brought to the palace at the Forbidden City and immediately hustled into a workroom already alive with dozens of frantic seamstresses and tailors. About half of the assemblage was in Li livery, and the other half in imperial livery, and this was apparently causing some trouble, as several arguments between the two groups were in full swing when Laurence stepped in. 

After perfunctory bows and offhand promises that they would not fail him in their duty, Laurence was beset. He had become so accustomed to not being touched by the local residents that he made a noise of startled protest to be so handled. Lord Li had given them blanket permission to his person for the completion of the monumental task of outfitting him with court robes in a single afternoon, and Laurence was immediately pushed onto a pedestal and treated rather more like a dress form than a person. 

Between hurried fittings, he was conveyed to a chair and deposited there with firm orders to remain while the work went on around him. Laurence was almost grateful that he’d been given orders not to speak, as he was quite at a loss for how to respond, both to the frenzy and the treatment. He was plied with liquor to numb his throat, and trailed anxiously when he left to relieve himself, and was quite ready to burn the room down around him within an hour if it would get him out of their clutches. 

Several hours into this, another man appeared. He was dressed as an official and had another tailor with him carrying a bolt of silver silk embroidered in black dragons. This set up another uproar, as the cloth was apparently a gift from the emperor himself, and it came with a command that it be made into a garment at once. The woman Laurence had come to associate as the leader of the workroom pulled at her hair and pointed insistently at the sun, already sinking toward the horizon.

Laurence chose this moment of confusion to slip out of the room. Temeraire was stretched out in the garden, wings fanned out to catch the sunlight. He lifted his head immediately at Laurence’s approach and arranged himself so Laurence could awkwardly pull himself up to the crook of his elbow. 

“I know you are not supposed to speak, but I will put my head very close and you may whisper to me if you are at all uncomfortable?” Temeraire said, immediately doing just that. 

Laurence’s leg was throbbing painfully and his throat burned with every breath, but he smiled and set a hand on the ridge above Temeraire’s eye. “No, dearest, I am well,” he said softly. 

“There does seem to be quite a lot of noise in there. Whatever are they doing?”

“The impossible, or so it seems,” Laurence said. Indeed, he was impressed by the rate of progress, knowing well how long it took to have a well-tailored garment made, to say nothing of the kind of finery required for a visit to court. His mother’s court gowns were often ordered months in advance of such a visit. Laurence had not been to court himself since he was a boy, having worked very hard to be at sea whenever such an opportunity might come up after he had presented omega. 

“Well, I hope they are not treating you poorly.”

“Not at all,” Laurence reassured him. 

“Perhaps, as I suppose you cannot read to me at all at present, Laurence...perhaps I might read to you a while?” 

Temeraire was obviously somewhat nervous about making the suggestion, which made Laurence immediately curious. In the weeks of their mutual lessons, Temeraire had often read to him from the classics of Chinese philosophy and poetry. Laurence agreed, and Temeraire eagerly called for Dyer to bring his reading frames. 

“I have composed it myself,” Temeraire admitted after a few lines of what seemed to be a scholarly comparison between the treatment of dragons in England and China, and how that related to the treatment of omegas. 

Laurence was somewhat bemused, but he bid Temeraire to continue and listened to the rumble of his voice as he read, frequently interrupting himself to make changes to the composition. It was written in Chinese, and Laurence was surprised by how much of it he understood without needing a translation, though he did not stop Temeraire for an explanation of anything he did not immediately grasp. 

“I will, of course, put it down in English as well,” Temeraire said, interrupting himself once again mid-sentence. “Do you suppose Lily and Maximus and our friends would be interested?” 

“I can’t imagine how they could not be,” Laurence said, though he suspected the interest would be more of a curiosity than the fire Temeraire was obviously hoping to ignite with his passionate arguments, the most prevalent of these being on prepared meals and ownership of treasure. 

Temeraire turned to continue, but just then, Laurence was spotted by a frantic tailor who rushed over. He was curiously tilted forward as he moved, as though intending to headbutt Temeraire’s flank, but came to a messy halt just shy of a collision and bowed lower still while simultaneously reaching up as though to pull Laurence down by the ankle. 

Temeraire’s ruff flattened and he pulled back to look at the man in obvious disapproval, shifting his arm away to keep Laurence out of reach. 

“I suppose I must return,” Laurence said, reaching up to pat Temeraire’s chest to forestall any complaints that would have to be treated as orders. Temeraire was obviously displeased with this abrupt end to their discussion, but he did not protest as Laurence slid somewhat awkwardly to the ground. 

Quite obviously taking advantage of the liberty he had been granted by Lord Li, the tailor rushed in at once to get his shoulders under Laurence’s arm and wrapped an arm firmly around his waist. He tried to lift Laurence up, but Laurence outweighed him by several stone at the least, not to mention what had to be nearly a foot of difference in their height. 

Laurence pulled away from him indignantly, but the man held on, calling out for the others, who had apparently been searching for Laurence around the garden. Another man ran over to get under Laurence’s other arm, and together they were able to lift him off his feet and carry him back into the workroom in an odd, shambling run. 


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning in the end notes.

The next morning, Laurence was stirred out of bed several hours before sunrise, and, it seemed to him, only a few hours since he had been dropped unceremoniously into it well after the moon had risen. 

Li An Tien was there to help him into the ponderous weight of silk, several pieces of which were still held together with pins. One of the tailors was at his side as soon as the last garment, constructed of the dragon-embroidered fabric, was settled on his shoulders and set at once to frantically stitching a seam closed at one side.

“I do apologize for the rush,” Li An Tien said as he made a valiant attempt to pull Laurence’s hair up in the style favored by the Chinese nobility. It had grown long, having not been seen to properly for nearly a year, but it was still not long enough to accommodate Li An Tien’s design. It kept slipping out of the topknot, even with the liberal application of wax. “We did not expect the opposition to dissolve quite so rapidly, or we might have begun preparations for this some time ago.” 

Laurence hissed as the needle penetrated through the layers of silk to prick at his hip, but the tailor did not appear to notice. “Quite alright,” he said in a painful croak through his teeth. 

Li An Tien called out for tea, and it was produced almost at once. The hot beverage soothed Laurence’s throat, and he bore up to the arrangement of the robes without shouting in frustration as he was adorned in the cumbersome finery.

He did, somewhat begrudgingly, manage a compliment on the work, which the tailor only responded to with a grunt. For his part, Laurence would just as soon see the miles of silk burned, but, having witnessed the extraordinary lengths that had been undertaken to assemble the garment in such a short span of time, he couldn’t help but be somewhat awed by it. 

“We will need to put the collar on,” Li An Tien said apologetically once he had given up on Laurence’s hair. He did not wait for Laurence to respond, but wound a length of velvet around Laurence’s throat to cushion the bruises before securing the heavy collar over it. 

Pronounced ready, Laurence was led out of the room by his hands while the tailor held the skirts up so he did not trip on the hem of the robes. He found Granby and Hammond waiting in the hall, both dressed as neatly as could be managed. Granby stepped subtly up to his injured side so Laurence might lean on him if needed, but Hammond launched immediately into another repetition of what would be expected of Laurence, and the phrases he would need to repeat at particular times, all of which were quite far beyond him. 

Hammond had attempted to corner Laurence for the lecture the previous day in the workroom, but he had been expelled by the head seamstress almost immediately, and then chased out in a similarly quick fashion whenever he had attempted to return and over his strident protests. 

The tailor followed as they travelled through the open corridors and courtyards of the palace, still stitching Laurence into his garments. He had to be physically restrained by the guards from following them into the audience chamber, and Laurence fumbled for the dropped needle, hastily slipping it into the fabric to prevent it from catching.

Granby and Hammond stopped to remain outside as well, Hammond wringing his hands as he called out a last warning for Laurence not to say anything he shouldn’t, but Lord Li was waiting for them just inside the doors. He moved smoothly in front of Laurence and Li An Tien as they continued their progress down the massive length of the audience chamber.

“Stay with me,” Li An Tien murmured softly. Laurence did not reply, but inclined his head and slowed his steps so that Lord Li took the lead of them by several paces. The unfamiliar headpiece shifted as he did so, and he straightened up again hastily lest it tumble off, not trusting the thin ribbon tied under his chin to keep it in place.

The emperor was seated up on his throne, resplendent in golden yellow robes, an elaborate red headpiece, and pearls draped over his shoulders. Laurence had only the briefest impression of a rather stern-faced man with scant facial hair before following Li An Tien’s lead to kneel on one of the cushions at the base of the stairs leading up to the throne. His leg protested the motion strongly, and Laurence felt the wound stretching against the stitches as he settled down. Li An Tien glanced over at him, but Laurence did not return his gaze and strove to keep any discomfort off his face.

Prince Mianning was already in attendance, seated on a landing half-way up the stairs. He met Laurence’s eyes and gave him a small, encouraging smile. Besides them, only half a dozen others in the red or green garb of court officials occupied the massive, echoing space.

Lord Li remained standing for a moment, speaking formally. The emperor responded to him with similar formality. Laurence only vaguely understood that they were arranging a kind of joint custody, and he would have been incensed by it but for his exhaustion and his frantic attempts to remember his own lines in the performance. 

When the Li patriarch backed away and lowered himself to his own cushion, Laurence felt the emperor’s gaze to turn to him. At a subtle motion from Li An Tien, Laurence bowed over his knees to press his forehead to the floor, feeling the wound stretch further and quite probably tear. He thought with some dark amusement on the seamstresses and tailors’ reaction to finding blood on the brand new garments, but he remained in the offensive posture. Having already delivered such obeisance multiple times to lesser figures, he could hardly complain to so lowering himself before an emperor. 

Li An Tien tapped the floor slightly to get Laurence’s attention. They rose together, and then bowed again. Hammond had assured him that, as far as Majesty’s government would be concerned, this would be only a matter of filial duty rather than a representation of England’s stance toward the emperor, but it galled nonetheless as he rose and then performed the kowtow one more time. 

This, he realized, was where Hammond’s carefully prepared phrases were supposed to be presented. Laurence straightened up for the last time as blank terror flooded through him, and he could not remember a single word. 

Before he could manage to embarrass either himself or the Li clan, Li An Tien tilted down one more time and said, in English, “My brother suffered a cowardly attack only two nights ago, and his throat was badly injured. Please, allow me to translate on his behalf.” 

The emperor nodded, and Li An Tien bowed one more time before he flowed easily and gracefully into the proper forms, not even pausing as though to listen to Laurence speak, which was just as well, as Laurence could not have managed a word of it just then. 

On his behalf, Li An Tien expressed his deep gratitude at the honor bestowed upon him, his admiration of the emperor’s generosity and good sense, and a lengthy promise to behave appropriately as the emperor’s son and a prince of China. This last nearly brought a protest to his lips, but he let it die and bowed again as directed. Temeraire was forefront in his mind as the ceremony continued, and it was all the motivation he needed to remain quiescent on his knees.

“It is my great joy to have an omega for a son delivered to me by heaven,” the emperor said, this delivered quite flatly. Li An Tien quietly translated the words; a blessing when Laurence’s own knowledge of the language seemed to have dissolved. 

“The night before my Lung Tien Qian laid her eggs, I dreamt of a seed set in a current, and knew that this seed as well must be set adrift for some great purpose. By the Will of Heaven, we have been returned joy and fortune many times over for this seed set on the current.”

Laurence flushed at the translation of this, but luckily was not required to make a response. He trembled faintly as he made that final lengthy bow, imaging, as he had done many times in the past, Lord Allendale’s response to realizing he had an omega for a son, and knowing it would not be quite so kind. 

Formalities concluded, they were led to a veranda overlooking a sprawling garden dotted with dragons, Temeraire and the whole of Qian’s court among them. Temeraire looked up at him anxiously, but Laurence waved him down and watched as Temeraire relaxed back to the ground between Xiaqing and Mei. 

They were directed to a table, thankfully tall enough to accomodate chairs, and left to wait. After perhaps a quarter of an hour, Prince Mianning joined them, releasing them to take up their teacups. He greeted Laurence as his  _ didi _ , a word Laurence understood to mean ‘younger brother.’ This was frankly absurd, as Laurence could easily give the prince perhaps ten or twelve years. Seemingly unconcerned about the difference in their ages, he spoke warmly with Lord Li and Li An Tien at his pleasure in the formal union of their households. Lord Li was quite visibly equally pleased by this, and he surveyed Li An Tien and Laurence both with an expression of smug pride that Laurence did not feel he had earned in the slightest.

A short while later, they were joined by the emperor himself, who turned immediately to Laurence to demand, “What was the result of your recent heat?” 

When Laurence only stared at him in shock, Li An Tien spoke up to explain that it had, regrettably, been only a false heat. By the time Laurence had recovered from the shock of the question, the emperor  _ harrumphed _ in vague disapproval.

“How many children do you have currently?”

He was further disappointed to realize that Laurence did not have any children, and only marginally mollified when Li An Tien mentioned his runners, who Hammond had unsubtly put forward as Laurence’s wards in the clear intention of them being misunderstood to be his adopted children. 

Laurence sat through the following lecture on his duty as a son and a prince to share the gift of his omega blood and produce offspring. The emperor pointed out that Mianning had already three children, and apparently saw no conflict whatsoever in both acknowledging that Mianning was several years his junior while also referring to him repeatedly as Laurence’s older brother. 

The emperor was at last satisfied with Laurence’s stiffly-delivered promise that he would see to the matter as soon as it was convenient. Outside of a cycle, he was, of course, incapable of siring children. He did not feel it necessary to say that he would no more countenance a parade of strange alphas in his future cycles than he had in the most recent, and so the matter of convenience was a technicality on which Laurence was able to escape without making any more concrete promises. 

This matter set aside, the emperor praised him offhandedly for his recent victory in combat, noting his apparent martial skill with a neutral tone, and condemning the attacks against him stridently. He concluded this with a wish for Laurence’s swift return to health that bordered on being a command, and then turned to address some comments to Lord Li regarding the size of the Li clan’s household. 

Initially, it seemed to be only polite and idle conversation, but Laurence realized quickly that there was some additional negotiation progressing, which somehow also involved the two alphas and the beta who had presented themselves to Laurence during his cycle. 

Despite having spoken no more than perhaps a dozen words, Laurence was nearly dropping with fatigue by the time they were released from the interview. The emperor and Prince Mianning remained seated, and Laurence rose hastily with Li An Tien and Lord Li to make a deep bow. His arms trembled faintly with the strain to hold them up, and his voice cracked badly when he forced himself to call the emperor  _ lord father _ . The last syllable tried to stick somewhere in his throat, but he thought the falter could be explained by his injury. In any event, there were no comments made on it, and he withdrew at Li An Tien’s subtle gesture. 

As soon as they were away from the emperor's table, Temeraire was quick to hurry up to the veranda. He lifted his head to peer over the railing, tilting first one way and then the other to eye Laurence in his finery. 

“Oh, but they are so very lovely, Laurence,” Temeraire said with a deeply satisfied sigh. “If this is what they were making so much fuss over yesterday, I do understand why you had to stay with them. Could you turn in a circle so I might see the sunlight on the gemstones?” 

Laurence would have liked very little less than to parade himself in the gaudy robes for anyone else, but for Temeraire, he took no small amount of pleasure in holding his arms up and turning slowly about. Temeraire made appreciative noises that were so graphic in nature, they made Laurence burn red and check to see if they were being observed. Li An Tien and Lord Li were some distance down the veranda in discussion with their own dragons, but Laurence doubted that the sound had not carried. 

“My dear,” Laurence protested weakly, but he couldn’t bring himself to put any damper on Temeraire’s joy.

“Would it not be so very nice if you could dress so every day?” 

It mostly certainly would not be so very nice. Laurence attempted to clear his throat, putting a hand up to brace against the soreness. “They are a lovely gift, Temeraire, but surely seeing them daily would spoil your pleasure in them?” 

“Well, we could have many different such robes, so they would not grow common, could we not?”

Panicked, Laurence said, “I could not possibly fly comfortably in such an ensemble, Temeraire.” 

Disappointed, Temeraire sat back on his haunches. “No, I suppose you could not. But you will wear them for special occasions, will you not?” 

“As they were a gift from the emperor, I could not possibly insult him with wearing them for anything less than the  _ most _ special occasions,” Laurence tried. He did not say that he could foresee absolutely no circumstances that would qualify beyond any future meetings with the emperor himself. As he suspected that such audiences would be rare, if there was even another at all before they returned to England, he did not foresee having to don the ridiculous outfit again. 

Laurence remained with Temeraire for some time longer, and only protested that he needed to depart when Temeraire wondered aloud if they might not have an artist make a portrait to commemorate the event. Laurence escaped before such an artist could be procured, and he and Li An Tien were escorted back to Laurence’s room by an honor guard, Granby and Hammond catching up to them en route. 

For his part, Hammond was nearly delirious with the success of the gambit and pestered Laurence incessantly for details that he could hardly provide. Li An Tien made polite, but short responses on his behalf, trying and failing to convey the inappropriateness of the questions with his eyes and pointed silences alone. Laurence could have told him that he need not bother; Hammond was so obviously immune to any variety of social scorn that nothing less than sewing his lips shut would suffice to silence him. 

Hammond did attempt to follow them into Laurence’s bedchamber, but the Li guards in attendance had apparently had quite enough by then, and he was caught by both arms and hauled back out. With an aggrieved expression, Granby closed the door, looking like he very much regretted being on the side with Hammond still trying to call questions through the rice paper screen.

Laurence gratefully allowed the robes to be removed and handed back to the tailor for finishing. The poor man was swaying on his feet and he held his arms out only mechanically to receive the weight of silk, tilted forward in a bow that nearly spilled the cloth on to the floor, and slumped out of the room. 

“Thank you for your assistance in translating,” Laurence told Li An Tien with a subtle emphasis on the final word once they were left alone. 

Li An Tien laughed musically, but did not respond as he reached up to remove Laurence's heavy collar and return it to its box. The cloth collar reappeared, but Laurence was so grateful to have the weight off his throat that he did not resist. Li An Tien nudged him toward the bed, and Laurence took to it gratefully, not even minding when Li An Tien laid down next to him for what was obviously an equally well-deserved nap.

~*~

They were woken only an hour later by Granby, grim-faced. Laurence stared blankly at him for a moment, and then realized that Li An Tien had thrown an arm over him at some point. He scrambled upright, flushing scarlet, but Granby didn’t even seem to notice.

“I am sorry to wake you, Captain, but we need you outside.”

Embarrassment forgotten, Laurence swung his feet over the side of the bed and reached at once for his trousers. “What has happened?” he asked in a crackling voice, sleep and the injury to it conspiring to give his words the gravity of a landslide. 

“The execution of your attacker has been ordered, and we’ve been given less than an hour to be assembled outside.”

At this, Li An Tien also sat upright. He blinked at them both blurrily, but clambored around Laurence to get out of the bed at once. Stifling a yawn, Li An Tien smoothed his hair back with both hands and struggled to untangle himself from his own garments as he stumbled across the room to the dressing table.

“I see,” Laurence said, his chest twisting strangely at the news. He stood with Granby’s assistance to get his trousers up, but was stilled by Li An Tien’s hand on his wrist. 

“This is an official event and you are now a prince before you are a British captain,” Li An Tien explained bluntly. He ignored Laurence’s outraged exclamation and Granby’s similarly arranged expression and leaned out the door to call for a servant. 

He hadn’t gotten more than a single word out of his mouth before one appeared with an armful of silk. Li An Tien took it from her at once and turned to drop it in Granby’s arms to cut off any argument. The door was closed once more, and Li An Tien turned to give Laurence a patient, direct look. 

With the utmost reluctance, Laurence let his aviator’s jacket slide back to the bed and unlaced his trousers. He needed the support of the bedpost to get out of them, but that was as far as he got before Li An Tien was at his side, hands running under Laurence’s shirt to pull it over his head with ceremony or stopping to ask permission. He paused for a moment with his hand hovering over the bandage on Laurence’s thigh where the wound had indeed reopened and bled through the wrapping. He made a frustrated noise, his hand pulsing in clear indecision, but there was apparently no time to address it, and he wrapped another bandage hastily on top of the first. 

Laurence did not have even a moment to protest the treatment before he was being thrust into a sheer robe that closed over the front, and then two more on top of it before the final, heavy outer layer. It was a different set of robes than he had worn in the morning for the audience of the emperor, but no less richly arrayed or any lighter. 

He set his mouth in a grim line as the rest of the clothing was arranged around him, and said nothing when Li An Tien untied the soft collar and secured the heavy golden collar in its place once more. There was a curious kind of indecency to having Granby and Li An Tien kneeling side-by-side at his feet to push the slippers over the white socks, and he had to look away from them. 

“There is a chair waiting in the hall, Captain,” Granby said with his mouth set in that stubborn line that acknowledged Laurence’s protests and dismissed them before they had even been voiced. 

“I am perfectly capable of walking,” Laurence said, nonetheless, but Li An Tien did not even give him the courtesy of humoring him as he pushed Laurence into it. 

The chair was picked up by four sturdy men in Li colors, and they all but ran him out of the palace to the expansive courtyard while Granby took off at a pace that was only a step behind a sprint to assemble the crew, and Li An Tien walked briskly at Laurence’s side. 

Once they were outside, Laurence called a halt and demanded to be put down. He had experienced plenty enough of being carried, pushed, pulled, and quite literally poked, and he was not about to be conveyed like an aged invalid in front of his own crew. For a moment, it seemed as though they were not going to put him down, but once Laurence started pushing out of the gilt chair, they were quick to lower him to the cobbles. 

Li An Tien had obviously anticipated this, and he stepped up to Laurence’s injured side to put a steadying hand on his elbow as he crossed the remaining distance to the raised pavilion under his own power. Laurence regretted his stubbornness very much by the time he got to the top of the stairs and all but fell into the low-backed chair on Mianning’s right. Li An Tien hummed something under his breath that drew a smile out of Mianning, and then he retreated to stand behind Laurence’s chair. 

“He said that you are as willful as a cat,” Mianning told him when Laurence only looked between them. 

“Oh, did he?” 

“It loses something in the translation,” Mianning assured him. 

Laurence may have replied, but was interrupted by a reverberating horn. The main gates opened, and soldiers filed into the courtyard in long lines, dragons coming in at the rear of each company and arranging themselves around the courtyard. Laurence’s own severely diminished crew came in last, presented in their best uniforms with their individual harnesses polished over their green coats. They did not quite have the same precision as the other crews, though Laurence was neither surprised nor dismayed by this. They had not ever drilled for precise parade ground work, and he saw in them all the discipline and poise that he expected of them. Their double lines were filled out by Li guards, and Xiaqing came in behind them.

Temeraire and Qian landed after five crews, distinctive in the colors of their uniforms, had lined up in front of a hastily erected stage. Qian settled herself gracefully beside Lung Tien Chuan, already arranged behind Mianning’s seat, and Temeraire sat at Laurence’s side. Laurence turned in his chair to look at him. He had been arrayed in a golden diadem with great polished green plates and jade accents, and his talons were sheathed in elaborately patterned gold with seemingly delicate chains stretched between them. 

Seeing his attention, Temeraire clicked the talon sheaths on the stones. “Are they not perfectly lovely, Laurence?” he asked in barely contained excitement. 

“They are…” They were perfectly ridiculous, but Laurence could not help but see how much they pleased Temeraire, and so he smiled and said, “They are beyond anything, my dear.” 

For several minutes, silence settled heavily in the courtyard, and then a pair of Imperial guards marched in with Laurence’s assailant hanging limply between them. 

Laurence frowned. In the light of day with both the battle lust and the lingering traces of his cycle gone, he could see that the man was really a boy, no more than seventeen, and quite likely a good deal younger. Laurence cast a glance at Mianning in concern, but the other man did not return his gaze, staring directly ahead. 

The boy was dragged up the stairs and dropped one level below the emperor, who looked down at him with a pitiless disdain. When the emperor began to speak, Li An Tien leaned over to translate, though Laurence was able to catch most of the speech. 

“You have shamed your master already. Name the rest of your foul compatriots.” 

The boy looked up at the emperor with his expression filled only with mourning and a terrible kind of love. It was immediately apparent to Laurence that he was as loyal to the emperor as he had been to Yongxing, and that his love had only been twisted to an unfortunate purpose. He shook his head and cast his eyes down, moving slowly up to his knees to put his face to the floor. 

“He has not said a single word since he was taken into custody,” Mianning told Laurence in a soft undertone. “Nor, I wager, will he. It does not matter. Young Prince Miankai has already told the emperor that he was asked if he might not like to be emperor himself, and have a Celestial dragon of his own. This boy’s confession can do no more damage than that.” 

Laurence shifted in his seat, drawing in a breath to speak, but Li An Tien put a hand on his shoulder and drew him back. “Do not. He has shamed his master, and has contributed to that man’s death. This is as much for him as it is for you.” 

Settling back unhappily, Laurence watched as the boy was dragged once more down the stairs and pulled up onto the stage. He was shoved down to his knees in front of a solid block, and his bound hands were hauled up onto it. Laurence stared at the boy, trembling on that block, and heard nothing of the announcements made by the crier. 

In what seemed like a last bit of cruelty, a pristine, delicately pink lotus flower was set in the boy’s cupped palms before the executioner raised a sword and severed them at the wrists in one clean stroke. However brave he had been, the boy screamed as he pulled his arms back without his hands. He stared at the gushing blood with wild eyes, the air emptying out of his lungs in one continuous wail, and then catching for several awful seconds before it began again. 

Laurence forced himself to watch. He was the cause of this. It did not matter that he had not started the conflict, or that he did not know so much as the boy’s name, or that Yongxing had ultimately sealed his fate. Indeed, in the heat of the fight, Laurence would have killed him in defense of his own life and felt little regret for it. He tried to imagine how he would have reacted if the boy had been a man of Laurence’s own age, and he tried to tell himself that the boy’s actions had been as much an act of treachery as Choiseul’s had been. 

“We leave the rest to you, Lung Tien Xiang,” the emperor said cooly. 

The words had barely left his mouth before Temeraire had reached over the pavilion and smashed one great talon down on the stage. 

At the very least, the screaming stopped. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Execution, dismemberment. This section begins with the line: Settling back unhappily, Laurence watched as the boy was dragged once more down the stairs and pulled up onto the stage. He was shoved down to his knees in front of a solid block, and his bound hands were hauled up onto it. Laurence stared at the boy, trembling on that block, and heard nothing of the announcements made by the crier.
> 
> Next week is going to be *brutal* for me at work, so I may be late with the next update.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Temeraire took Laurence directly from the site of the execution to the guest house at Prince Mianning’s palace. They were silent during the flight, and not only because Laurence could still barely speak above a whisper. 

Xiaqing and Zheng followed them at a respectful distance, and Laurence submitted silently to having his wound restitched and bandaged once more. Keynes was uncharacteristically quiet as well, refraining even from lecturing Laurence on the torn stitches as he worked. 

After landing and before delivering him to Keynes’ care, Temeraire had said only, “I shall not apologize for killing that man after he tried so very hard to kill you, Laurence.” 

The stubborn tone in his voice simultaneously broked no arguments and seemed also to beg for them. If Laurence had felt like he could speak without tearing his throat apart, he might have obliged Temeraire in a philosophical debate, but he hadn’t been able to do more than rest his forehead briefly against the side of Temeraire’s face before stepping carefully down with Keynes’ and Granby’s assistance. He had been aware of the slump of Temeraire’s shoulders, his wings drooping toward the ground, but he’d had neither the energy nor the words to comfort him in the moment.

Keynes finished his work and stood. He hesitated, and then slowly set a hand to Laurence’s shoulder and squeezed it firmly. Laurence turned away to dislodge his hand, but made no comment on the breach of etiquette. Without a word, Keynes packed up his bag and slipped out of the room, leaving Laurence to redress in peace. 

Laurence felt the most uncharacteristic urge to throw the fine robes directly out the window in hopes that they might land in the pond and sink at once, but he laid them out on the bed instead and dressed in one of the lighter garments. It was the set of robes Li An Tien had brought him after he’d been stabbed the first time. He took an almost malicious pleasure in knowing that he would be once more thoroughly out of fashion, even as he again remarked on the slitted skirt that bore so much resemblance to the fashion for male omegas in England. 

He would have put his uniform back on, injury be damned, except that it had not yet been returned from the palace, and it was the unfashionable robes or the several tonnes of embroidered silk. 

A casual inquiry revealed that Li An Tien had been summoned by Lord Li and was not expected back until the morning. Laurence felt a moment’s discomfort that the other omega had not informed him of his departure, and then immediately dismissed it. Li An Tien did not owe him any kind of explanation for his movements. Indeed, the reverse could more easily be argued to be true. He quickly waved away an offer to send for him and descended to the main level of the house. 

The crew moved quietly around him as he made his way out of the house and into the garden. Laurence kept himself strictly upright and offered them nods as they passed, being careful to keep his expression neutral. He would not have rumors spreading that he had closeted himself in his room in a fit of ill temper after the day’s events. It was important that they see him still very much as their captain, and not as some foreign prince. 

Settling himself on a bench beside the pond, Laurence picked up a sturdy stick of nearly-correct length, and put his knife to it, chipping away at the gnarled knot on one end to form a comfortable grip. 

After perhaps an hour, Granby stepped around the bench and sat next to him. Laurence paused in his work to acknowledge him with a nod, and Granby nodded back. They sat in companionable silence for several long minutes, Laurence working slowly down the length of the stick and Granby twisting a long blade of grass between his fingers. 

Only a few days before, Laurence would have felt the awkwardness of the silence and sought to fill it. Being essentially unable to speak had lifted a weight that he hadn’t ever realized had been a burden, and he was comfortable in the quiet. 

“I hope you will not be too hard on Temeraire,” Granby said at great length, flicking his eyes over to Laurence. “I know it’s a hard thing, and that boy was wretched young, but it’s not your fault. Him dying.”

Laurence paused, letting the knife come to rest on his knee. He was surprised by the ache in his hand. At one time, he had been quite the proficient whittler, having little else to do in the long hours out to sea, but it had been some years now since he taken to it with any effort. 

Setting the knife on the bench between them, Laurence stretched his hand out, using the opposite thumb to press at the knot of soreness at the base of his palm. Next to him, Granby slouched forward to brace his elbows on his knees and fiddled with one cuff while the silence stretched.

“Really, it’s a miracle Temeraire didn’t kill him on the spot the other night, and just as like taken Mianning and Fellows with him. He’s very young, you know, and it’s blasted difficult to get them to back down when their captain’s been hurt. His control is a credit to you, sir.” 

That was quite far enough, and Laurence was ashamed that his own first lieutenant felt it was necessary to offer him comfort in such circumstances. He took in a breath and let it back out. “You needn’t defend him to me, John. I am not angry. It is merely a dreadful waste of a young life, and I cannot help but regret it, even if I understand it.” 

“Would you have regretted it if he had attacked Li An Tien? Or Harcourt? Or me - any member of your crew?” He said the last with a firm set to his jaw and a flush of red on his cheeks, but clearly intended to stand by it. 

Laurence thought on the question. “I would like to think that mourning the death of a child should always be appropriate,” he said with an attempt at sternness that failed on his weakened voice. He understood at once what Granby meant and did not appreciate the implication that he was playing the martyr.

Granby deflated some small degree. “Of course.” He plucked at his wrist again, and Laurence finally noticed that he was not pulling at the cuff of his jacket, but at the edge of a glittering golden bracelet that bore a remarkable resemblance to the three waiting in Laurence’s room. 

Noticing his gaze, Granby flushed even more warmly and quickly pulled his sleeve down. After a painful moment, he said, “I thought it might be rude not to wear it. The coat will cover most of it.” 

Realizing at once what the bracelets were meant for, Laurence made a poor attempt to clear his throat, feeling his own cheeks heat. “Quite right, Mr. Granby. Though you may have a time of it when its provenance becomes general knowledge.” 

Granby nodded, lips turning down, but he gave Laurence a steady look and said, “I don’t regret it.” 

Slipping his knife back into the sheath in his boot, Laurence reached over to pat Granby on the shoulder. “That is certainly for the best. However, you have rather illuminated for me a duty I appear to have neglected. If you will excuse me.” 

To his credit, Granby did not try to help him up. Laurence leaned experimentally on the cane and found it serviceable enough. He managed to get Roland’s attention and sent her up for the three boxes, but was at something of a loss once she reappeared with them stacked carefully between her hands. 

Noticing and apparently recognizing the boxes, one of the passing servants hurried over to take them from her, smiling and speaking in rapid-fire Chinese that she returned at the same pace before running off. She was out of range of his voice before Laurence managed to call her back, but returned a moment later with two other servants and a pair of guards in Li uniforms. The boxes were distributed carefully with a great many bows, and Laurence realized with a sense of dismay that he had blundered into some other great ritual that was bound to bring him grief.

Committed to the course, Laurence gestured to one of the guards to take the lead. Confusion touched their faces as they exchanged glances, and Laurence asked, “English?” 

“Yes, Your Highness,” one guard said immediately, bowing deeply with one fist over his heart.

“What is your name?”

“This unworthy one is Li Taiji, Highness.” 

“Captain will do,” Laurence said, irrationally annoyed. At the guard’s uncomfortable wince, he felt a stab of guilt, but did not withdraw the command. “Do you know where Captain Li Jian is at present?” 

“Yes, High - Captain. Of course.”

“Take me to him.” 

This caused another spasm of confused uncertainty, but Laurence had intentionally phrased it as an order rather than a question, and Li Taiji bowed again before issuing orders to the others. They led Laurence through the front door and into the garden, keeping their steps slow and measured so they maintained a practiced formation matched to his pace. Curious, Roland tried to attach herself to his side, but Laurence sent her to Fellows to see if he might have any work for her apparently idle hands, and she sighed dramatically before turning to go. 

Laurence should have asked first how far they would need to walk, but, luckily, Li Jian was within the walls of the guest house’s garden. He was practicing some manner of martial art technique with his eyes closed. The motions were so fluid and graceful that it looked almost more a dance, but Laurence recognized immediately where the strikes would be deadly at speed, and saw also that it was the same species of art Li An Tien had displayed at the villa. 

The guard at the head of the procession stopped and drew in a breath as though to shout for Li Jian’s attention. Laurence cut a hand sharply through the air to interrupt him, and turned to take one of the boxes from a startled servant. The man stood with his hands held out over empty air for several moments while Laurence shifted his grip to tuck the box against his side. 

He was certain that there was a polite way to ask them to step back for some privacy, but only the imperative came readily to mind, and so he ordered them to go, adding insufficiently in English, “Please, gentlemen, and thank you.” 

Tentatively, they withdrew some distance, wide-eyed looks passing between them, and Laurence took the remaining paces to a convenient bench on his own. He lowered himself slowly to wait, watching Li Jian flow through an obviously well-practiced series of motions. After a moment, he came to suspect that Li Jian had realized he had an audience, detecting a kind of showiness as he continued. 

At last, Li Jian stopped in a final pose, extended out in a lunge that emphasized the long lines of his body and displayed the strength in his shoulders. He held this position for several long breaths and then straightened, brought his hands together in front of his chest, and bowed to empty air. 

In a surprisingly boyish gesture, he opened one eye to see if Laurence was watching him, and then broke into a broad grin and bowed again. He shifted to go to his knees, but Laurence tapped the end of the cane on the ground to get his attention. 

“Please do not,” he said, very tired of seeing people on their knees. 

Li Jian straightened up at once and looked at Laurence curiously, though his eyes remained focused somewhere around Laurence’s left elbow. Laurence motioned for Li Jian to take a seat beside him, and was glad when the man did not hesitate before doing so. 

“I believe this is intended for you,” Laurence said, swallowing around a sudden nervous fluttering in his chest as he gestured for the box. Something about having Li Jian so close to him inspired a panicky desire to jump up and move away, and he had to clamp his teeth around a shout that would bring the guards running back. He reminded himself firmly that he was perfectly safe, and watched as Li Jian opened the box. 

To Laurence’s surprise, Li Jian laughed. He plucked the bracelet out of the box and held it up to the light to examine it. “What a fine gift,” he said, meeting Laurence’s eyes with a smile that managed to be both sly and knowing. “I would not have thought I did enough to deserve it.”

Laurence skipped neatly over the implication as if Li Jiang had not spoken, entirely unwilling to examine what Li Jian had or had not done to earn a gift. “Before you accept, I hope I may prevail upon you for a frank and honest conversation.” 

Li Jian tipped his head sideways, smile going somewhat crooked as if to remind Laurence that he could hardly say no. He inclined his head and said, “Of course you may.” 

“Do I obligate you in any way with this… gift?” Laurence asked bluntly. 

“Do you mean...do you claim me as your personal bedroom attendant with it?” 

Laurence blinked at him, blood draining out of his face so quickly that he was left feeling nauseous in its wake. He looked at the bracelet, immediately desiring nothing more than to pull it out of Li Jian’s hands and throw it away. 

Li Jian laughed again. He had an infectious, bright laugh with no malice in it. “No, you do not,” he reassured Laurence, securing the bracelet to his left wrist and then holding it out for Laurence to see it against the black cuff beneath. “It does grant me some few liberties,” he continued, meeting Laurence’s eyes again pointedly. “I am already in our clan, but now I can look you in the face while we talk.” 

“I see,” Laurence said, somewhat uncomfortable with the directness of his gaze, and aware for the first time of the extraordinary shade of his eyes, a kind of hazel that was so dark Laurence had mistaken for it brown from a distance. 

Thankfully pulling his eyes away, Li Jian turned his wrist to look at the cuff himself, twisting it to catch the light. “These gifts are marks of favor that high ranking omegas give when one of us has been… hmm… particularly helpful.” He grinned at the flush to Laurence’s cheeks. “It is a little strange for me to wear one from my own clan. We are mostly related, you know,” he added in the tone of a confidence. “But see, here?” 

He leaned over to show the cuff to Laurence, one slender finger pointing to the disk of jade carved with an unfamiliar character above the familiar lotus.

“This is your personal mark. So no one will think I’ve been quite so _helpful_ to my own brother.” 

Laurence coughed and regretted it. He set a hand to his throat just above the collar. “That is a relief.” 

Li Jian let his arm fall back to his lap and tilted his head curiously. “What else would you like me to be frank and honest about?” 

“Your English is rather… different from your brother’s,” Laurence said, though it hadn’t been what he’d meant to ask. 

Grinning widely enough to show all of his curiously straight teeth, Li Jian winked and said, in a near perfect imitation of a Scottish brogue, “I have known my fair share of English sailors, laddie. And English aviators.” 

Laurence put a hand up briefly up to cover his eyes and decided not to mention that most Scottsmen would not appreciate being called ‘English sailors,’ even if it were technically true, and did not correct Li Jian calling him “laddie” in favor of a far more pressing concern. “Please, I beg you not to give me any names.” 

“Well,” Li Jian said in clear amusement, “Since you have begged.” 

At this, Laurence could not help glaring. Li Jian put his hands up in apology, but his eyes remained bright and his smile undaunted. 

“Li An Tien and I are… hmm… how shall I say it? We are almost twins. Did you know?” 

Laurence blinked, certain there had been some mistranslation. “Almost twins?” 

Nodding, Li Jian said, “Yes. We were conceived on the same night - well, the same heat at least - but different mothers. I am two days his senior, but still the big brother.” This was apparently a source of great amusement to him. He patted his chest smugly. “Our eldest brother is almost fifteen years older. He had presented and was gone to the army before I even knew his name. Li An Tien and I grew up together, at least until he was fourteen and he went to the omega house. We learned English when we were young.” 

He held up a hand some small distance above his knee in illustration of their youth. “English missionary. Very proper gentleman. Later, I was stationed in Guangzhou. Different kind of gentleman.” He winked, but Laurence steeled himself to disappoint him if he was looking for any further displays of embarrassment. Li Jian continued after a moment. “Very interesting kind of people, English missionaries. Our father was very strict about our lessons. He brought in a tutor who knew some English from the merchants to monitor.” 

Laurence could well imagine the particular viewpoints that would offend Lord Li, and knew of the tenacity of missionaries, particularly those who undertook such dangerous, long journeys for their missions. He had seen no Western presence at all since leaving Guangzhou, and he wondered vaguely that a missionary had been allowed any further than the port city to begin with, but he did not press the inquiry.

“That was perhaps wise on your father’s part.” 

“Our father,” Li Jian corrected, waggling a finger at Laurence. “He’s your father now, too, though, of course, the emperor is the more important father.” 

Laurence would argue that his own father, as distant and disapproving as he was, was the more important of the three, but he did not waste his breath on that particular point. 

“I, at least, have benefitted from your education,” Laurence said to sidestep the debate. 

“Yes, it was very lucky Li An Tien saw you first. Things might have gone differently if not.” 

Laurence nodded. As much as his life had been upended the moment Li An Tien had so casually announced his orientation, he could be nothing but grateful that it had been him, rather than another clan that might have been loyal first to Yongxing. His hand drifted up to his collar as he remembered the monstrosity of Kang Xifeng Tien’s collar. Physical comfort aside, he imagined that things would have progressed very differently if he had been discovered by a Kang omega.

“I think you must be the most controlled person I have ever met,” Li Jian said casually a moment later, apropos of nothing. At Laurence’s cautiously inquiring look, he explained, “I have never heard of an omega in heat letting go an alpha willingly once they had got their hands on them. It is why there is a strong beta also, someone who may not be so carried away by his passions.” 

Shifting on the bench under the excuse of stretching his leg out, Laurence managed, “I hope I did not cause any offense.” 

“Oh, Ruan Zhou was, hmm… shall we say, agitated? But do not worry, she had me and our friend Pan Xuwei to take her frustration out on.” He laughed uproariously at Laurence’s blank look. “It was not a great burden. And you have restored my reputation,” he said with mock gravity, putting a hand over his chest and bowing from the waist with the air of a performer accepting applause.

“You know,” Li Jian said after a moment, looking back down at the bracelet. “You are a prince now, and even if you were not that, you are an omega of the Li clan. Us peons should come to you, even if I do enjoy very much to have you for an audience.” He gave Laurence a frank, heated look, and added more lightly, “I will be happy to practice for you any time.” 

Expression flattening, Laurence said, “Perhaps you might instruct me instead. I am quite sure Temeraire would be thrilled to observe such an exercise.” 

Rather than be daunted by the idea of having Temeraire and his deep suspicion of human alphas as a chaperone, this brightened Li Jian’s expression further still. “I would be honored,” he said. For the first time, his tone was filled with real sincerity that Laurence thought he might come to regret. “If I might make use of my newly granted liberty, may I suggest that the others are summoned for you? If you wish to honor them this way, of course. It will be a very long walk otherwise.” 

Laurence considered whether he could simply stop and not give out the remainder of the bracelets, but then remembered Lord Li’s conversation with the emperor. If he did not do it himself, he imagined that it would be done for him. Indeed, when considered under that light, he was surprised that it had _not_ been done for him. Having taken the step of delivering the first bracelet, he resigned himself to completing the venture, not wishing to offer any offense by having the others delivered so much later and by someone other than himself. 

Releasing a resigned sigh, Laurence agreed with a nod.

~*~

He should not have been surprised when the other two had been gathered so quickly that he was barely seated in a makeshift audience chamber before one of the servants announced them, and yet he still marveled at it. He wondered if they had perhaps been closer than Li Jian had implied, but they were both markedly windswept, and could have simply been thrown onto dragonback, pell mell, while Laurence had made his slow progress back to the house. 

Li Jian stood behind Laurence’s chair, his arms crossed over his chest so the bracelet was on display. Laurence assumed that a significant message was being conveyed with this blatant show, and was proven quickly correct when both Ruan Zhou and Pan Zuwei’s eyes flickered between the two of them. 

Without the haze of the cycle to cloud his vision, Laurence took them in. Ruan Zhou was a petite woman and handsome more than lovely. Though she bore no physical resemblance to Jane Roland whatsoever, she nonetheless brought Jane to mind as she stepped into the room with a rather manish swagger. A deep scar was just barely visible over the collar of her uniform and looked to be perhaps the result of a burn. 

Beside her, Pan Zuwei looked even more massive and intimidating than he had the first time Laurence had seen him. He was certainly at least Granby’s height, but layered thickly with muscle where Granby was wiry and thin. His head was shaved to the scalp, but he had a rough shadow of facial hair that defined a sharp jaw, and his hands looked equal to palming a dinner plate. 

Laurence blinked at the mismatched duo as they went to their knees, she with a dancer’s grace, and he one knee at a time with a very practical manner. Laurence bid them to rise almost before their foreheads had touched the floor, and they sat back on their heels to look up at him expectantly. 

He had been warned that neither spoke a word of English, and so he tried his best to express some gratitude without being either effusive or rude. From the tilt of Ruan Zhou’s head, he had probably managed to do both, and he finally gave up. 

“Li Jian, if you wouldn’t mind?” Laurence requested finally, frustrated. 

Li Jian took over the explanation at once, and Laurence did not need to turn in his seat to know the man was grinning through it. Once finished, Li Jiang snapped his fingers, and the remaining boxes were brought forward and set before the two kneeling figures. At Laurence’s uncomfortable nod, they opened the boxes. 

Ruan Zhou’s face lit up at once, and she was quick to slip the cuff over her slender wrist. It would need to be sized for her, Laurence noted when she was able to pull it over her hand without difficulty. She held it with her opposite hand to keep it from sliding down her forearm and twisted it to admire the light sparkling off the finely worked pattern of flowers and leaves.

In contrast, Pan Xuwei only put out a finger to stroke the delicate jewelry, saying nothing for a long moment. His expression had not shifted, and Laurence could not tell if he was pleased or offended at the gift. He bowed over the box and spoke briefly, revealing a voice that was so deep, it was difficult to hear over one’s own heartbeat. 

“He is a blacksmith,” Li Jian told Laurence helpfully. 

“Ah. He is of course excused from wearing it if that is a thing that needs to be said. For his safety.” 

Li Jian translated this, though Laurence suspected from the look of mild surprise on Pan Xuwei’s face that he had commanded the man to preserve his health against any future need Laurence might have of his services. Bracing an elbow on the arm of the chair, Laurence put his face in his hand. 

“That will be all,” he said miserably, and the room was quickly cleared out to leave him to his own demons. 

~*~

After a light supper, Laurence went out in search of Temeraire, and found him coiled tightly around himself with one wing up over his head. Laurence felt an immediate pang of guilt and reproached himself sharply for staying away so long. He had known that Temeraire felt wretched over the execution, even if it was not the same variety of wretched that Laurence felt himself. He should not have left him to stew in that unhappiness for so long. 

“Temeraire?” he called softly. 

Temeraire opened his wing, inviting Laurence into the shelter of it automatically, though he did not immediately lift his head. 

“My dear, you have my deepest apologies,” Laurence said, speaking past the rasp of pain in his throat to make himself clearly heard. “I should not have left you so long.” 

He would not do Temeraire the disservice of making excuses. Laurence had plainly invented those excuses to stay away. He could have—almost certainly _should_ have—waited for Li An Tien to assist him with the bracelets, and he certainly could have whittled the cane at Temeraire’s side. The truth of the matter was that he _had_ been angry, but none of that anger should have been turned to Temeraire’s detriment.

“Oh, it is quite alright, Laurence. I was only napping,” Temeraire lied, but he did finally shift his posture to bring Laurence into the curl of his arm. “Are you well?” 

“I am, dearest.” 

“Laurence, I still will not apologize for squashing that man, I will not,” Temeraire told him in a rush. “Only, I hope you are not too upset? But, Laurence, I could not have borne it if he had lived when he had so very nearly killed you.” 

Laurence set a gentle hand on Temeraire’s cheek. “Please understand, my dear, I was not— _am_ not—upset with you. He was merely very young, and it is a hard thing to see such a youth led so far astray. For all that we may not have agreed with him, Prince Yongxing’s convictions were genuine, and he felt himself to be in the right.” 

“But he was _not_ in the right!” Temeraire said indignantly. “He only wanted you killed, and he thought that I would take Prince Miankai as my captain only because he might be an omega some day!” He snorted demonstratively. 

“His… dislike was not of me personally, Temeraire, or not—not entirely. His objection was to what I represent, all of the Western world, and everything he wished to save his country from. It is not a thing to despise, Temeraire.”

“Then he could have very well said so!” Temeraire persisted, “and not gone about, sneaking like a scrub and getting other people to try to kill you. Anyway you are clearly _not_ a threat to China, and I am glad he is dead.” 

To this, Laurence could offer no real argument. He leaned against Temeraire’s chest to take the weight off of his injured leg and looked down at himself, seeing the collar that had become nearly comfortable, the robes that no longer felt quite like going about in his dressing gown. He wondered if Temeraire was not right to some extent—it seemed apparent that Laurence was not a representation of an invading force, as quickly and easily as he had been consumed by China and its customs. 

“Laurence? Are you… are you quite happy being a prince?” Temeraire asked softly. “At first I thought it was the most wonderful thing, but you do not seem very happy.” 

“A lot has happened in a day, my dear,” Laurence said to avoid having to answer directly. He was not, of course, happy to be a farce of a prince, or to be bowed to and waited on, or to be carried, or dressed in finery he hadn’t earned. One truth he could at least deliver with utmost sincerity was, “I am more than happy that it means you and I will not be parted, Temeraire. That is worth absolutely anything in all the world, and I would have done far more besides.” 

At this, Temeraire’s spirits finally lifted, and he leaned down to carefully nuzzle Laurence’s chest. “I had nearly forgotten!” he said in excitement, and then called out for Roland to “fetch his box.”

Laurence watched curiously as she obligingly brought over a long, polished box.

“You have given me such a fantastic present, and I thought that I should like very much to give you a present as well. My mother said that she and my sire would have presented you with a gift if you had been made my companion here, and she let me choose amongst her things. I thought that was the nicest and you might like to have it,” Temeraire said, very nearly vibrating with pleasure as his words tumbled out. 

Unlatching the box, Laurence lifted the lid to find a magnificent blade tucked in among red velvet, its sheath and hilt finely worked in gold with gemstones set in the pommel. He drew the blade to sight down its length, seeing immediately the exquisite craftsmanship.

“Do you like it?” Temeraire asked anxiously. 

“My dear, it is the most perfect thing. Thank you,” Laurence said with real pleasure, the tightness in his throat not entirely due to the injury. He stepped out of the shelter of Temeraire’s wing and gave it an experimental swing while Roland looked on with rapt attention. 

“It is a fine gift, Temeraire,” Laurence said, cognizant only after the fact that it was much the same thing Li Jian had said to him not two hours before. For some reason, the thought brought a laugh to his chest. He resheathed the blade and returned it to the box. At Temeraire’s leading suggestion, he did not close the lid, but set it out where Temeraire could admire it easily. 

“Perhaps you might like to continue reading your essay to me?” Laurence suggested after a moment of companionable silence.

“Oh, yes, I would. Roland, do you mind?”


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are getting so close, friends!

Laurence and Temeraire sat above the harbor in Tianjin, watching the Allegiance being tugged slowly into place. She dwarfed every vessel in the harbor to insignificance, even with her sails furled, and seeing her in comparison to the fishing and merchant vessels at anchor drove home the differences in construction and design that Laurence found interesting.

Temeraire craned his neck up and commented, “The  _ Allegiance _ really is very large, is it not Laurence? I do not think I ever quite realized.” 

“I was thinking much the same thing, my dear,” Laurence responded, gently patting Temeraire’s neck. “I would be interested to take a tour of one of these junks, however. The shape is quite fascinating.” 

“Oh yes,” Temeraire said. “Though I do not think it would be very comfortable for a long journey.” 

“Certainly not for you,” Laurence agreed. He doubted that any of the other ships in harbor could hold Temeraire’s weight for even hour, if he could set down on one at all. He put the glass back up to his eye and turned it to sweep over the  _ Allegiance _ once more with a nervous fluttering under his breastbone.

“It will be nice to see Captain Riley again - and the rest of our crew as well. Oh, we do have so very much to tell them.” 

To this, Laurence made only a noncommittal noise. For the first time in weeks, he felt the weight of the collar as something more than merely physical. In the weeks since the attack, the wound on his leg had healed to be merely tender and no longer required a bandage, and his throat had healed with no apparent lasting harm. All the same, sitting astride the base of Temeraire’s neck, Laurence felt the pull of the new flesh on his thigh and his throat seemed to be almost closing up. He knew that the collar had grown no tighter, and yet it felt as uncomfortable as that first morning in Dongguan so long ago. 

He pushed the phantom pains aside as the  _ Allegiance _ finally dropped her anchors. She was close enough that Laurence could see the rest of his crew up on the dragon deck. Temeraire had picked a good vantage point, and he would be clearly visible to them in turn. Next to him, Zheng was coiled loosely over the rocks, his back empty of all but Laurence’s own party and Li Jian reclined back with one ankle crossed over a knee, napping in his silken harness.

Taking the opportunity to examine the ship at a distance, Laurence checked her over carefully for any signs of damage or distress. He thought, perhaps, there was some faint signs of scarring amidship, but Riley had obviously kept the crew busy during the slow journey from Guangzhou, and she looked to have been freshly painted, all her pulleys gleaming so that she seemed to wink at Laurence from her anchorage. 

Riley was visible on the deck as well, standing at the rail in his full uniform and hat, no doubt anticipating Laurence’s arrival.

“Ought we not fly out to meet them?” Temeraire asked when perhaps a quarter hour had passed and Laurence had not stirred. 

Reluctantly, Laurence put the cap back on the glass and secured it to his belt once more. He cleared his throat and called out, “Captain Li Jian?” 

Li Jian drew an arm away from his eyes and craned his neck upwards to look out toward the harbor. “Ready, then?” he asked, yawning largely. 

“If you would be so kind.” 

Laurence had hoped to make the trip to the Allegiance alone, but putting Temeraire under harness long enough to carry the crew to the ship had been greeted with such frustrated incredulity that Laurence had capitulated to having Zheng and Li Jian as escort with barely a murmur. He would need to undertake that particular battle soon enough, but he preferred to bide his time and fight it only once. In any event, once they were back in England, his Chinese minders would be too far away to vent their opinion on the matter.

Zheng rose up to his feet, a shiver passing down his length as he stretched, and Laurence watched with approval as his crew rolled with the motion nimbly. Between Zheng and Xiaqing, Granby had managed to have their small crew of eleven running drills almost daily, and they seemed none the worse for the long absence from service. Laurence was dreading the condition of the majority of the crew, left idle on the  _ Allegiance _ for so long. 

Temeraire launched into the air with Zheng rising only moments later. The veteran dragon had obviously drilled and mastered this quick takeoff, and was able to time the first great pulse of his wings so that he lagged just far enough behind Temeraire to thrust himself above them into a guard position. This allowed Temeraire to take off first while also leaving him exposed for only the space of perhaps a dozen heartbeats. 

Riley ordered them a handsome salute as they flew the first pass over the ship of cheering sailors and aviators. Even as Temeraire roared out a greeting, Laurence flinched, seeing the immediate, alarmed activity on shore. Before he could open his mouth to shout an order up at his crew, Granby had set the riflemen to a return salute from Zheng’s back. Laurence urged Temaire into a tight spiral to land on the deck immediately, rather than taking another pass, with hopes of putting the harbor guards at ease. 

Zheng came down gracefully after them. His turns appeared almost lazy as he made the corkscrew turn to land, and he looked neither impressed by nor curious of the ship once he had settled into the place Temeraire had left for him. The crew disembarked in something of a jumble, and were greeted enthusiastically by their fellows. Laurence watched from his position still aboard as many handshakes and thumping-of-backs went around. Roland and Dyer received particular attention, and a number of exclamations over how much they had grown could be heard as hands reached out to ruffle their hair. 

“Is something the matter, Laurence?” Temeraire asked, craning his neck around to look at Laurence. 

Brought back to himself, Laurence said, “No, my dear. Only woolgathering.” He unclipped his carabiner straps and stood, stepping grimly into Temeraire’s talon with his legs trembling unsteadily beneath him. By the time Temeraire had lowered him to the deck, he had managed two slow breaths and had brought himself under control. 

The crew parted to let him through, and Laurence stepped off the dragon deck to meet Riley. For his part, Riley was already smiling broadly in welcome, and he took the last two strides eagerly, holding his hand out. 

As Laurence exchanged a firm grip with him, he saw Riley’s eyes flick down the collar shining brightly in the late afternoon sunlight, but his expression was merely curious as he looked back up. 

“It is good to see you again, Captain Laurence.” 

“And you, Captain Riley,” Laurence returned automatically. “I hope your journey was uneventful?” 

“Oh, more or less,” Riley said dismissively. “There was a brief business with some pirates, if you can credit it, but nothing whatsoever to write home about.” 

Around the deck, others had noticed Laurence’s collar as well, but the reactions were only of bemusement, covetousness, or a kind of a disdain. The collar was so different from what they would be used to that they, much as Laurence had himself on first glance, would likely only think of it as a piece of truly gaudy jewelry. 

For a blissful moment, Laurence imagined that it could stay that way. He could allow it to pass unremarked, and once they were out on the open ocean again, he could bury it in his sea chest or toss it out into the waves, and his life could return to what it had been. 

“The captain is a real prince now!” Dyer announced to the crew at large in a piping voice ringing with innocent enthusiasm that shattered the daydream in brutal fashion.

Riley’s smile grew. “Have you gone and gotten yourself married to some princess?” he asked with a clear note of teasing in his voice, eyes dancing with mirth. 

“How perfectly ridiculous!” Temeraire snorted disdainfully. “Whyever should Laurence have married anyone at all?”

“It is something of a long story,” Laurence hedged.

“He has been adopted by the emperor,” Temeraire contradicted at once, sounding quite smugly pleased, and, indeed, pushed his chest out and lifted his wings slightly from his body, preening.

Eyebrows promptly disappearing under his hat, Riley gave Laurence a quizzical look. At Laurence’s somewhat miserable affirmation, he blinked. “That does sound a story!” 

Laurence understood the offer at once. At a nod from him, Riley would invite him belowdecks for refreshment and some privacy to lay out the whole tale. Laurence could make his confession in the relative security of the captain’s cabin and allow the rumor mill to handle the rest. That he could simply not tell Riley was out of the question, but to tell him in private would put him in a miserable position. Laurence did not want there to be any suspicion whatsoever that Riley had somehow been complicit in his crime, had perhaps even helped him to hide for the ten years of their acquaintance. 

Decision having been made, Laurence still required a further two breaths and one false start before he marshalled himself, squared his shoulders, and said, “Captain, you should be aware. I am omega.” 

The look of shock on Riley’s face was mild and brief, but genuine, and Laurence rather thought the surprise came more from hearing it aloud than the fact of it at all. Behind him, Purbeck executed an almost comical double-take, shaking himself as though to clear his ears of seawater. There was a brief moment of confused silence around the deck, and then a frantic run of whispers as those closest shared the news with their fellows further back.

Riley, bless him, merely said, “Very good, sir. I estimate that we are about three weeks for vital repairs and resupply, though if I may have six, I would like to see if we may set ashore to scrape the hull. Beyond that, we are free to leave at your pleasure. Assuming that you will be accompanying us on the return voyage…?” he asked hopefully, though he was not able to keep his eyes from drifting down to the collar, its shape and meaning now clear. 

“We shall be, of course,” Laurence said, striving to keep his tone neutral. “If you have the inventory complete, I might be able to assist with the resupply. There may need to be some substitutions based on the availability of goods.” 

“Certainly,” Riley said, turning with one hand already extended to issue an order, perhaps for the books to be brought up on deck, but was interrupted by Purbeck, his tongue finally overcoming his shock. 

“And will your  _ alpha _ be joining us?” he asked with a nasty, dangerous note to his voice. “Or, I suppose, you have his permission in writing?” 

Laurence stepped back. Despite spending the last week since receiving news of the  _ Allegiance’s _ imminent arrival preparing for precisely this reaction, he was nonetheless shocked deeply to hear both the venom and the demand.

“I am no alpha’s property,” Laurence said firmly, though he had crafted a more elegant reply in the dark hours of the sleepless nights. His stomach made a very enthusiastic effort to pull his heart out of his chest, and heat flushed up his neck. 

“No! You, sir, are a coward and a criminal!” Purbeck snapped. 

Behind Laurence, a deadly quiet fell. Into it, Temeraire rumbled, “What did that man just say?”

“I will not be intimidated by your beast only because you are too much of a coward to submit to being properly collared and doing your duty by it!” Purbeck said, reaching for the flail coiled at his hip.

Laurence took an automatic step back, hand going for his sword. The great shadow of Temeraire’s talon passed over them, and Laurence released the hilt to jolt forward, spinning to put himself between Temeraire and Purbeck.

“Temeraire, no!” he shouted.

Temeraire halted at once, making a noise that neatly bridged frustration and rage. There was another burst of movement and Laurence turned to see Purbeck with his hand raised as though to grab Laurence from behind and Granby with a tight grip on his wrist.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, sir,” Granby said in a hard, quiet voice. “In China, you get both of your hands cut off for touching an omega without their permission. To say nothing of striking a prince. We’ve already seen one man executed thusly.”

On Laurence’s other side, Li Jian stepped almost casually into view, one hand toying with the pommel of his sword. He said nothing, but all the easy serenity in his expression had vanished, and his eyes were intense on Purbeck. His face, normally boyish and charming with his bright smile, was wholly transformed by the expression. 

“Excuse me, if I may - let me through, please - excuse me.” Hammond pushed his way into the tense circle, resettling his glasses on his nose with one hand as he reached into his jacket with the other. “I think I may be able to offer a solution acceptable to all parties.”

“If you will only move out of the way, I shall squash him at once, and all parties may be satisfied with that!” Temeraire declared.

“Temeraire, stop that at once!” Laurence ordered sharply, reaching up to grab one claw and pushing it back, as though he could have any hope of moving it.

Temeraire did withdraw, but he leaned his head very close so that his jaws were a scant few feet from Purbeck in blatant threat. Purbeck seemed to realize that the only thing between him and those teeth was Granby, and he went still, for all that his expression did not change.

Hammond held a thick packet of paper wrapped in oilskin out to Riley with the royal seal clearly visible on the front.

“As part of our negotiations with the Chinese government, Captain Laurence has been given special dispensation by the Crown to remain, unmolested, in his position, and to be further excused in perpetuity, from all laws that would otherwise apply to him as an omega. He is to be granted all the rights, responsibilities, and protections of a man of his station.” 

Purbeck’s color darkened as Hammond summarized the papers, and he whipped his head around to look at Riley. 

Riley leafed through the pages without lingering, and then folded them up and handed them back to Hammond. “All seems in order.”

“Captain, you cannot-”

“Cannot disobey the writ of the Crown,” Riley interrupted sternly. “You are quite right, Lord Purbeck. Get the men back about their work, the show is over.” 

There was a moment of near mutinous silence, and then Purbeck turned sharply on his heel and started barking orders to the gawking sailors.

“You did always know how to make things interesting, Will,” Riley said casually once the moment had passed. Without requiring a response from Laurence, he called for the books, and they sat down on the deck together to review them as though nothing had happened. 

The mood on the deck remained strained and quiet, the sailors casting long looks at Laurence as they continued the usual work of securing the ship at anchor. From those officers who had never served with Laurence, there was a mix of hostility and confusion, making it easy to tell which tended to follow their captain and which looked instead to Purbeck. From the hands, curiosity. The likelihood that they had ever seen an omega in the flesh was slim, and their regard was dangerously intense where they stared at him or gathered in small groups for whispered conversations. 

Purbeck himself had been sent below with makework, and the officer of the watch was boatswain was inconsistent with his starts, he being heartily engaged in the business of watching Laurence and Riley himself. On the dragon deck, the aviators were very pointedly going about their business, and, indeed, making themselves busy for the sake of it. 

Laurence would have far preferred to review the books in the privacy of Riley’s quarters, as they would have done normally, but he understood both the necessity and the message in the visibility of their work. The captain being shut away with an unclaimed omega would spawn a rash of rumors that Riley was hardly likely to escape as it was, they having been close companions for years. Laurence knew very well what would be said about their relationship the moment any of the men had the illusion of privacy to spare. That Riley had “played the alpha” for him would be the least of the speculation. By the time they returned to port, every man with whom Laurence had ever served would be drawn into the conspiracy.

Laurence did his best to apply his attention to the work, but his eyes kept straying to Hammond and the precious pages in his coat. In his most wild imaginings, he had never dreamt of such a thing, and he was tempted to pinch himself to check if he might be actually dreaming. He was very well aware that Hammond had once again taken advantage of a public announcement. He could have provided Laurence with those details at any point during the last several weeks, and had deliberately withheld it until he could make a spectacle of it, though for what purpose, Laurence could not be certain.

Once they were back on shore, Laurence pulled Hammond aside and gave him a hard look. “Sir, do you have the authority to issue this declaration?” 

Hammond blinked at him. “The emperor’s natural wish for your health and safety was absolutely vital to our negotiations, and this seemed the best way to ensure that. I can tell you, finding out later that you had been collared against your will by an alpha…” he made a face and blew out a noisy gust of air. “Suffice to say, now that you are a member of the imperial family, I would be in some risk of losing my head.”

Laurence could guess where the rest of the conversation would go, but he still asked, “You will not be returning with us?” 

“No. That is to say, with your permission, I might remain as your guest to establish a permanent embassy.” 

“I see,” Laurence said, and then seeing Hammond’s expectant expression, continued, “You, of course, have my permission. Assuming that you also have the permission of Lord Li to remain as  _ his _ guest.” 

“Yes, yes, of course,” Hammond said dismissively. “I will have a copy made of the dispensation for you to carry. One such copy has already sailed with the East India company, along with my report. It should beat you home by some months, I imagine. I suppose I shall either be given a commendation, or be drummed out of the diplomatic corps and be recalled home in shame, but it shall be nearly two years before I hear of it, so I will just have to continue on. Either way, the agreement is at the foundation of our new friendship with China. It will hold.” 

“Mr. Hammond. I cannot express my gratitude adequately.” He also could not express his frustration adequately, or explain the nights of stomach-churning anxiety over his fate once he returned to England with his secret exposed.

“No gratitude necessary, Captain,” Hammond said, waving his words away. “This is all really because of you. If any gratitude is needed at all, it is owed to you. You have done an immeasurable service for your government.” 

Laurence felt that was a rather extreme stretch. He had not, after all, done much except be an omega and survive several assassination attempts. All the same, he let the matter drop, and they returned to the guest house at the Li estate. 

~*~

When Laurence went out to read with Temeraire that night, Temeraire was uncharacteristically quiet. Without the constant excitement, Laurence’s lessons had been progressing more rapidly, and he was coming to the point of being able to read aloud in Chinese without embarrassing himself or Temeraire too badly, though the different tones still made his head spin, and he had difficulty telling them one from the other. When Temeraire corrected his pronunciation, he would simply repeat it back until he landed on the correct tone by accident and Temeraire expressed himself satisfied. That he would have to correct the same mispronunciation again later did not seem to bother Temeraire the way it frustrated Laurence’s tutors. 

“My dear?” Laurence queried after mangling a complicated stanza and stopping to stare at it for several minutes in bafflement to wonder what, exactly, goats had to do with anything. As Temeraire had not caught him at it, Laurence assumed there must be something heavy on his mind. “Temeraire?” 

“Hmm? Laurence… Do you suppose… Do you suppose you might like to stay?”

Laurence lowered the book to his lap and smoothed his fingers over the corners of the soft pages. “I cannot say that I haven’t considered it,” he said finally. It was a difficult thing not to consider when, even with Hammond’s special dispensation from the Crown, he risked so much returning to England. In China, he could live without fear of becoming some alpha’s property, of being sneered at by strangers for his orientation, of having his liberties stripped away.

“It could be quite nice,” Temeraire said. 

“What should we do here, darling?” Laurence asked him. Even a cursory examination of the proposed life revealed its flaws. He was at no risk of becoming an alpha’s property, but he was nearly as beholden to the Li clan and the emperor’s whims as he would be to an English alpha. He had already had quite enough of being dressed up and paraded around court, of having an entourage everywhere he went, and he knew that he would eventually be pulled into some court intrigue or another. If it became politically necessary to set him to an alpha, it would certainly be managed, even if that alpha would not have quite the same control over Laurence’s life as one in Europe.

“We could do whatever we wanted,” Temeraire said hesitantly. 

“Could we?” Laurence asked. “As a member of the imperial family and you for my companion, I become a threat, however absurd, to Prince Mianning’s position.” 

Temeraire snorted. “You do not want to be emperor… Do you?” 

“Certainly not!” Laurence said with a laugh. “But it would hardly matter. I am as likely a candidate for the throne as a beetle, but I am…” Taking in a breath, Laurence continued, “I am omega, Temeraire. Despite being not Chinese, and in no way suited, the prince’s enemies could use me against him.” 

“You should be safer here, though, than in England, should you not?” 

“Of a given definition of safety, I suppose so.”

“We could go somewhere else,” Temeraire offered. “I am quite sure if you asked for a distant estate somewhere, either of your fathers would be happy to settle one on you. Perhaps on the coast, and we might have a ship to go sailing whenever we liked, or hunting for fish, or searching for sunken treasure!” 

Laurence laughed, and did not point out that he had a third father still, though Lord Allendale would in no wise be sanguine to settling an estate on him of any size or description. When he had been very young and his father had still been sure in the belief that Laurence would follow tradition and go into the church, a parsonage would have been arranged. When Laurence had made it clear that he would go nowhere but the navy, Lord Allendale’s ultimatum had been plain: Laurence could give up the nonsense of a naval career and enjoy a comfortable life with a wife and an estate, or Lord Allendale would buy his commission and Laurence would receive no further support until the day his father died. 

“It is a pleasant fantasy, Temeraire. I am sure you are correct, and that such an estate would be settled on us.” It would not be a terrible life, and he could see it spread out before him. Simple work to keep his hands busy, and Temeraire free to write poetry or compose his treatises as he liked. 

Temeraire was quiet for a moment, but then let go a breath that was meant to be a sigh, but sounded not unlike a gust of wind blowing past a sail. “But then nothing would change in Europe at all, and the omegas and the dragons there would continue to go on, not knowing that it could be any different. And all of our friends will be fighting a war without us,” he said quietly. 

“And our crew as well,” Laurence said, which made Temeraire sit up with an indignant snort. 

“They should never!” 

“They are of his Majesty’s Aerial Corps, Temeraire. Of course they could not stay with us to while away the days hunting sunken treasure. They would have to return.” 

A fine shiver went through Temeraire, and he said, “No, that will certainly not do. Of course, we will have to go back. But perhaps… do you suppose that once the war is done and we have beaten Napoleon, we might not return?” 

Laurence reached up to pet Temeraire’s chest. “Of course we may. As often and for as long as you like.” 

Temeraire leaned down to nudge Laurence affectionately. “Thank you, Laurence. But, you know, I do not think you meant to say ‘goats’ there.” 


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Laurence sat cross-legged at the dinner table. It was his first dinner with the whole of the Li clan, having preferred up to that point to take his meals with his crew when he wasn’t being pulled off to any number of exhausting court functions at the palace. The whole hall was filled with the glitter and tinkle of collars. Seeing them all assembled in one place, Laurence realized that there was an obvious sign of rank in the collars. At the head of the table, where Laurence sat at Li Chia-Hao’s left hand across from Li An Tien, the collars were broad and draped far down the chest. As his eye progressed down the table, they grew less ostentatious, and the collars on the youngest omegas at the end of the table were simple golden chokers that lacked the draping chains altogether. 

With a thoughtful look at Li An Tien, Laurence wondered why his particular collar, very nearly a twin to Li An Tien’s own, had been offered to him. He guessed that it was as a result of Temeraire, but he wondered if it had been one of Li An Tien’s own collars, and had been the only one readily available on such short notice. 

Li An Tien smiled at him from across the table as the last of the dishes were cleared away and highly decorated ceramic jars of liquor were distributed around the table. Laurence returned it with a nod, and then jolted as the woman sitting next to him, a sweetly plump young woman named Li Yuying, tipped against his shoulder and leaned there carelessly while she continued her conversation with her seatmate. 

Laurence’s mouth worked. He was startled and not sure what to do. She took no notice at all, and, in fact, turned further in her seat so that she was all but in his lap, and then stretched her feet out and slid them over her neighbor’s legs. When he looked back up, Li An Tien was just barely managing to stifle laughter. Li Yuying laughed at some comment Laurence had missed and threw an arm out in exclamation. When she brought it back down, she dropped it directly into his lap and immediately took the hem of his robes between two fingers to play with it. 

Eventually, Li An Tien took pity on him and gently suggested that Li Yuying sit up. She craned her neck back to look up at Laurence, tipping into his lap entirely in the process, and then she giggled and struggled to sit up. 

Laurence cleared his throat and leant her a hand, his face flaming. “Madam,” he said politely, steadying her on her seat. She almost immediately leaned the other direction to lay on Li Ruifang on her opposite side. Laurence looked down the table to see that it had more or less devolved into the scene he had witnessed that first night in the courtyard. At the time, he had been more shocked to realize they were all omega than he had by the casual way they had been draped over each other. 

“You visited the English ship,” Lord Li Chia-Hao observed, apropos of nothing. 

Startled back into himself, Laurence hurried to pick up his cup to have something to do with his hands. “Yes, my lord.”

“Do you find it well?” 

“Yes, she’s a fine vessel and Captain Riley is an excellent commander. With some minor repairs and refit, we should be ready to sail within the month.” 

Li An Tien looked up sharply. “Do you mean to say ‘they’ should be ready to sail?” 

Laurence blinked in surprise. “No. Temeraire and I will be returning to England. It may be that there are so many dragons here that one more or less would make no difference to the nation’s defense, but I assure you, that is not the case in Europe. Temeraire’s potential contribution to the war cannot possibly be overstated.” 

“I see,” Li An Tien said. 

Lord Li Chia-Hao made a thinking noise and crossed his arms over his chest. He eyed Laurence consideringly, and then grunted, stood, and left. 

“I hope I have not caused any offense,” Laurence said after the Lord had departed the hall. “I did not realize that my eventual departure was not understood.” 

“Let us perhaps discuss it another time,” Li An Tien said politely. At Laurence’s nod, he swept his sleeve up in his left hand, and then picked up one of the watercolor-green bottles. He offered it out with a smile. “May I pour for you?” 

“Yes, of course.” Laurence held out the thimble-sized cup to be filled, and then set it down and picked up another bottle to return the favor. 

They finished their glasses, and then Li An Tien made a questioning gesture. Laurence was only too happy to take the suggestion and abandon the table, where some of the younger omegas were beginning to grow boisterously drunk. He and Li An Tien stood together, and several of the other older omegas used the excuse to abandon the table as well, leaving it to the youths. 

“You will need permission from the emperor to leave,” Li An Tien said after they had made a turn of the back garden and started on the long, winding path that would eventually bring them back to the main courtyard. 

“I do not doubt that Prince Mianning will be happy to assist me with gaining such permission. Li An Tien, you cannot believe that my remaining would be possible or practical. Setting aside the war to which I am honorbound to fight, what use could I be to anyone here?” 

“Must you have a use?” Li An Tien asked quietly. “Might you not simply exist?” 

“No,” Laurence said. “No, that sort of life could never be appealing for me. Nor, I suspect, for Temeraire.” 

“Why could it not? You may find some occupation here that suits you.” 

Laurence looked at him sideways. “I beg you not to make this more difficult for me than it will already be. I have… You have been a most gracious and generous friend, Li An Tien. I do hope that we might part that way as well.” 

“We needn’t part at all.” 

Laurence stopped on the path just before the gate that would lead them back to the courtyard. In a moment of boldness, he reached out and caught Li An Tien’s wrist. At the other man’s startled look, he dropped it immediately. 

“Temeraire and I will return,” he said. “When the war is done. We will return, at least for a visit.” 

“If you are not killed in the meantime.” 

“Death is always a possibility in service,” Laurence said. “I do not fear it.”

With an unhappy look, Li An Tien turned away. He glanced back over his shoulder. “Would that we could all be so sanguine.” 

~*~

When Laurence stepped out into the garden the next morning, it was just in time to see Xiaqing land in the courtyard. He waited as Li An Tien disembarked with a small crowd of people in Li colors. He didn’t recognize any of them, but when they lined up sharply in front of them, he felt a frustrated twist in his stomach. 

“Li An Tien,” he greeted cautiously, stepping off the porch to meet him as he walked serenely through the courtyard. 

“Good morning, Li Laurence Tien.”

Laurence narrowed his eyes. Li An Tien had only rarely called him by his full Chinese name, and only ever in an official court setting. Laurence looked at the line of people again. There were perhaps a dozen of them, mostly men, but two women, and each had set a cloth bag at their feet before folding into deep bows. 

“Is there something I might do for you?” Laurence prodded when it seemed that Li An Tien was content to allow him to draw his own conclusions. 

“Your retinue,” Li An Tien said, gesturing to the assembled group. 

“Li An Tien-!”

“You are an imperial prince and an omega of the Li clan. If you mean to leave China, you may not go without appropriate accompaniment. Three cooks, two clerks, a poet, an artist, an historian, wardrobe, laundress and body servants.”

“This is most generous,” Laurence said through his teeth, “but unnecessary. I cannot possibly hope to support so many, and they will certainly be idle.” 

“Their service has already been assured.” 

“I cannot-”

“You will,” Li An Tien interrupted, his voice harder than Laurence could remember hearing before. “You have responsibilities here, as well. If you are not here to meet them, some of those responsibilities will go with you. This is a mere fraction of the party you should be traveling with when leaving Chinese soil.” 

Laurence opened his mouth to make another protest, but at a hard look from Li An Tien, he stopped. He remembered the truly outrageous entourage and baggage train that had traveled with Prince Yongxing. Seeing the stubborn set to Li An Tien’s shoulders, he did not press any further for fear that the threatened remainder of the party might be immediately summoned. Some occupation could be found for them in England that would be more suitable than following him around day and night.

He stood stiffly as the line of servants gave him solemn bows and promises not to fail in their duties, and then he dismissed them with a wave that sent them scattering into the house. He turned to go, but Li An Tien stepped in front of him without looking directly at him. 

“Why must this war be your war?” 

Laurence closed his eyes and took a breath in a bid for patience. “Because England is my home, and I am sworn to her service.” 

“England would make you into a dog to be whipped in the streets!” Li An Tien hissed. “England has made you into this man who hates himself for their sake. Stay.” 

“I cannot,” Laurence said, heart thundering at Li An Tien’s words, at knowing, all at once, that he was not wrong. 

“ _ Stay _ ,” Li An Tien persisted.

“I  _ will _ not.” 

Li An Tien took a tiny step away from him, eyebrows gathering over the bridge of his nose. His chest heaved for breath, and his lips compressed down into a thin, unhappy line. Laurence could feel his resolve already shivering. Even knowing it was impossible, even knowing all the ways that his life in China would be no more a rosy stroll than it would be in England, he wanted it to be different. He wanted to say he would stay if only for Li An Tien’s happiness, he wanted to rearrange the world in such a way that Temeraire’s goals could be met from the comfort of the Li estate, that the war could simply dissolve, that Laurence could allow himself to merely exist and be content with merely existing. 

He said nothing. All hopes to the contrary, and even setting aside every other practical concern and his duty as well, he knew that such a life would soon pall. He would be miserable in it, Temeraire would be miserable in it, even Li An Tien would surely soon become miserable in the face of Laurence’s misery. 

Li An Tien let a breath out in a soft sigh, but finally nodded. “I will not ask you again,” he said finally, voice soft and kind and very sad. “But know that you have a home here, and we are happy to welcome you back whenever you are ready to return.” 

Laurence swallowed. His welcome at his own home was far less certain. “Thank you.” 

Li An Tien nodded, though the motion was only barely visible in the morning gloom, and then he turned and led Laurence back into the courtyard. 

~*~

Laurence did his best to contain his irritation. He stood on the dock with Temeraire at his side while his new secretary argued loudly with the  _ Allegiance’s _ quartermaster. As he spoke very little English, and the quartermaster spoke even less Chinese, the argument was only frustrating them both. Laurence did not see that it would reach a resolution any time soon. 

They had not yet been given official leave to go, but Laurence meant to distance himself from the palace and the Li clan both. By removing himself and his men to the ship, he intended to make it clear to all and sundry that he did mean to go. It would allow them all time to become accustomed to the notion. He could admit that he needed time to become accustomed to it as well, that he felt a need to be embedded among his own countrymen again, to remind himself what it meant, and also to prepare himself in whatever small way he could manage for life in Europe as an omega.

Unfortunately, Laurence apparently could not be moved to the ship until his cabin had been rearranged to some rather spectacular and unreasonable specifications. He remembered the debacle of getting Prince Yongxing and his embassy aboard in England, and was anticipating any moment a demand that a platform be built in the middle of the harbor so he could descend down into the ship. 

“Oh, this is perfectly ridiculous,” Temeraire snorted after listening to the debate for nearly half an hour. Before any of Laurence’s minders could notice, he picked Laurence up and launched off the deck. The wind of his wings pressing down made Laurence’s entire entourage duck. Safe in Temeraire’s talon, Laurence could not stifle a laugh, and did not try. 

Temeraire set him down on the dragon deck, and Laurence stepped over to the rail to see his unwanted entourage piling into boats in a panic. It would not do to laugh at their predicament with an audience, so Laurence forcefully stifled any outward signs of amusement. 

“Captain,” Riley greeted, stepping up next to him. “We should be ready to sail whenever convenient,” he said diplomatically. He could not admit that he, a captain of His Majesty’s Navy, was being held in port on the say-so of an oriental emperor, but he could no more go without that say-so than Laurence could himself. He cleared his throat. “Some of your… party transferred aboard this morning. I believe your cooks are settling in.” 

Laurence put a hand up and massaged his temples. “You have my apologies, Riley. It was not my choice.” 

Riley’s lips went through a complicated series of twists as he fought down a smile. “I assumed it was something of the like. I do not mind saying that they have caused a bit of a ruckus in the galley, but I am sure it will settle out eventually. Our own cook has become accustomed to having competition, and has also adopted some of the local cookery. You would be stunned to see our table most nights.” 

Laurence smiled wryly. “I do not think I would be.” 

“Well, Lord Purbeck is regularly stunned,” Riley compromised. Once the man’s name had been mentioned, he shifted slightly, and Laurence guessed that he had been trying to bring the conversation around to Purbeck and his behavior. “Captain Laurence - Will, I apologize for Purbeck.” 

“You needn’t. You did not prompt his behavior,” Laurence said uncomfortably. 

“All the same, I am his commanding officer. I know very well what you would have said if I had behaved so abominably under your command. I did want you to know that we have addressed the matter, privately, and you will not have any further trouble with him. Or any of my officers.” 

“There certainly best not be,” Temeraire said with a dangerous note in his voice that made Riley look up at him nervously. 

Laurence cleared his throat. He reached out to put a forestalling hand on Temeraire’s forearm. “Thank you for the reassurance, Captain, but I beg you put your mind at ease. I expect that it will not be the last time I encounter such sentiments.” 

Riley’s head dipped, and his expression twisted. He clasped his hands behind him and straightened his shoulders. “Be that as it may, you will be safe while in my care.” 

Laurence stiffened. “Tom, I do not need you to care for me.” 

“Forgive me, that was graceless. I did not intend to imply...Only, all my passengers are my responsibility and in my care. Even your twenty-tonne dragon, who would likely take no more notice of me than I of an ant on my boot unless he very well pleased, is my charge for as long as you are both on my ship.” 

Laurence was immediately shamed by the explanation. Had he not felt precisely the same way when he took on passengers? Not only passengers, but every single soul aboard. “You have my apologies as well. I am perhaps too sensitive on the subject.” 

“Not at all,” Riley said with a dismissive shrug. 

Silence fell between them as they watched the boats rowing out from the dock and the continued comedy aboard. Several of the party were apparently not accustomed to water travel, and they were increasing the rocking of their little vessel by fighting to sit in the middle of the boat. One poor soul was clutching the side and vomiting violently, much to the obvious disgust of the sailors rowing. 

Just as the first of the boats bumped up against the side of the  _ Allegiance _ , a shadow passed over the ship. Laurence looked up to see Zheng hovering while he waited for Temeraire to give him space to land. A few hundred yards off, a great crimson dragon had lined up for an approach as well. 

Granby and the rest of his crew disembarked from Zheng’s back with their luggage, and then the whole of Li Jian’s crew poured down in short order. Among them, Laurence recognized Pan Xuwei, though he was dressed in Li blue, gold, and black in contrast to the red and black of Li Jian’s crew. 

“Captain Li Jian,” Laurence greeted suspiciously, but any further conversation was stalled as the red dragon made a less graceful landing on Zheng’s other side. Her crew, dressed in an almost lurid shade of bright red, dismounted with the same speed and coordination of Li Jian’s crew. 

To Laurence’s further consternation, they started unloading baggage. At his side, Riley made an immediate noise of protest, but quickly stifled himself and looked up at Laurence. 

“Captain  Ruan Zhou,” Laurence said more tightly as she joined Li Jian in front of Laurence. 

“What are you two doing here?” Temeraire asked Zheng on top of Laurence's greeting, stretching his neck up to see Ruan Zhou’s dragon. The dragon deck was large enough to accomodate a whole formation, and there was plenty of room for even three heavyweights of their size, but Temeraire had been accustomed to having the deck all to himself, and he rearranged himself fussily around them.

Zheng yawned and shook his head, rattling his diadem. “We are coming with you,” he said laconically. 

Laurence turned immediately to Li Jian. “Explain yourself, Captain.” 

Li Jian shrugged. “We are your guard. Of course we are coming with you.” 

“Absolutely not,” Laurence said immediately. A dozen servants, he could find an occupation for in England, but he would not stand for being pursued by two dragons and their alphas, and better than a hundred Chinese aviators besides. 

Grinning, Li Jian held his wrist up with its glittering cuff. “Very sorry, little brother, but I cannot let you go so far from home without your guard.”

“Little brother?” Laurence heard Riley mutter from behind him. 

Flushing hotly, Laurence said, “You told me plainly that cuff did not obligate you in any way!”

Li Jian held both hands up while Ruan Zhou and Pan Zuwei exchanged silent glances. “It does not obligate me. If anything, it obligates you.” When Laurence drew in an angry breath, he quickly continued, “It gives the recipient the right to demand a position in your guard and the Li household. I am already there, so no big problem. If you were staying home, it doesn’t matter, right? But you’re not staying home. You’re going all the way around the world. Now, it matters.” 

“Li Jian, this is not acceptable,” Laurence said tightly, but before he could continue, Granby stepped up to his side. He turned so he was in between Laurence and Li Jian, his back to Li Jian and mouth over Laurence’s shoulder. 

“Sir…” He made a reluctant noise in the back of his throat, but continued, “Two veteran heavyweight dragons and seasoned, trained crews?” 

Laurence looked at him sharply, having to lean away to do so. Granby’s expression was twisted into a grimace, but he met Laurence’s eyes steadily, if apologetically. Laurence shut his mouth and pressed his lips together in a firm line. He had explained to Li An Tien and Lord Li Chia-Hao that Temeraire’s contribution to the war effort could not be overstated. His own argument now reared up to bite him. 

Furious at the interference, Laurence took a step back from Granby and met Li Jian’s eyes. “If you are my guard, then very well. You will follow my orders exclusively, do we understand one another?” 

Li Jian smiled. “Of course.” 

Glaring, Laurence turned to Ruan Zhou and repeated himself, quite sharply, in Chinese. She did not strike him as someone who was easy to rile, but her eyes widened and she bowed immediately, barking out her understanding with the force of a soldier on the parade ground. Laurence transferred his eyes to Pan Xuwei, who bowed as well. His answer was softer, but no less heartfelt. 

“Put your men very firmly out of the way. Do not interfere with any of the sailors’ work, and I will consult with the captain on the matter of supply,” Laurence said. 

“Yes, Highness,” Li Jian agreed. 

“Captain!” Laurence corrected sharply. 

“Yes, Captain,” Li Jian amended with an easy alacrity that grated on Laurence's already worn nerves. 

Controlling his temper, Laurence turned to Riley. “If I may request a private word, Captain?” 

Riley coughed. “Of course, Captain. I will have the books brought to my cabin. Please.” He held one hand out in invitation for Laurence to proceed him, and Laurence stepped off the dragon deck. Behind him, Temeraire set directly to interrogating the other two dragons in Chinese. 

~*~

The  _ Allegiance _ was intended to carry an entire formation and its crew, and they had left England under capacity, even with Prince Yongxing and his embassy. Absorbing two more crews in addition to Laurence’s entourage would not stretch her available space. Each crew would be housed in a large cabin with hammocks stacked three high, and their baggage would not strain the ship’s cargo capacity, though it would require a reshuffling of both supply, and the small amount of trade cargo Riley had earlier agreed to take on at Guangzhou for the East India Company. 

Feeding two more dragons and their crews, however, would take considerable additional resources, and would further delay their departure by another several weeks, at minimum. 

Laurence massaged the center of his forehead. “I must apologize again, Riley.”

“Think nothing of it,” Riley said with a wave. He was indeed in high spirits as they went over the current inventory together and compiled a list of additional supplies that would be needed to provision their suddenly increased company. “I know you are not pleased with it, Will, but your Mr. Granby had the right of it. Two heavyweight dragons! And that big black fellow looks a likely sort. Is he like Temeraire?” 

“No,” Laurence said. “He is an Imperial - the breed we first thought Temeraire to be, before he reached his maturity. The red dragon is a Shao-Lung, if I am not mistaken. They make up the bulk of the Chinese aerial fighting corps.” He said the last with resignation. He hardly wanted to encourage either Riley or Granby, but he could not deny that both dragons would be invaluable in the war. 

“That is a lucky break for us!” Riley said cheerfully. 

“Indeed,” was all Laurence could contribute in the face of Riley’s enthusiasm. 

“Don’t look so glum, Will. It’s not as though Temeraire does not already treat you as his own chick.” Seeming to realize what he had said only after it was out of his mouth, Riley colored darkly and stammered out an apology. He returned his attention to their list with a cough before Laurence could muster up a response that may have brought them to blows. “I believe this should be sufficient for supply.” 

They leaned over it a final time, reviewing the figures, though they could only guess at the local substitutes for their more usual rations, such as salt pork. Riley rose to uncork a bottle of wine, and Laurence accepted it gratefully, though he took only a sip before setting the glass down. He had known Riley for nearly a decade, and counted him a friend for much of that time. Barring their clashes over differences in ideology, they were rarely uncomfortable with one another. 

Those differences in ideology, however, had been a frequent source of concern for Laurence. With his one great secret out in the open, he could no longer ignore it for the sake of harmony aboard ship. 

Reluctantly, Laurence looked up and said, “Riley—Tom, I must know. When did you realize?”

Riley gave him a mild look, quite clearly hoping that Laurence would drop the topic. He almost invented some other inquiry on reflex, but he could not ignore this. They would be trapped onboard together for at least eight months, and they both needed a firm understanding of where they stood with one another if they were to make it back to England without disaster. 

Seeing that Laurence would not release him, Riley let out a heavy breath and gave Laurence a gentle smile. “You tutored me in maths yourself. I  _ can _ count, you know. I suspected within three years, but was not sure for another eighteen months.”

The response warmed something inside of Laurence. The suspicion that Riley had figured it out had been lingering for years, but, of course, Laurence could not have confirmed it. “You never considered revealing me?” he asked, though he likely should have let the matter rest. 

Riley shifted uncomfortably, the warm smile falling away. Quietly, he said, “I very nearly did.” He did not look up to see Laurence’s stricken expression, but continued, “In those weeks, just before the capture of the  _ Amitie…  _ you took ill with the rest of the crew, and then took  _ ill _ …”

Laurence swallowed hard. It had been his singular misfortune to not only contract the same fever sweeping through the decks, but to fall into his cycle in the middle of it. He remembered very little of it, only in being forced to give command of the  _ Reliant _ over to his first lieutenant and retreat to his cabin. 

“...I had to restrain you, Will,” Riley admitted after a long time. “I thought surely you would die. I remain convinced that you nearly did several times. And I could not even bring in the surgeon for another opinion, or you have been revealed immediately.” 

Coldness settled in Laurence’s gut. He had, to his deep shame, noticed Riley often during his cycles, spun out ridiculous, uncontrollable fantasies of calling him down to his cabin and bolting the door behind him. If he had been already beyond controlling himself, his will worn down further by the fever, he could well imagine that he might had tried to…

“Dear god,” he breathed. “If I have—Riley, did I? Have I any reason to submit myself to the authorities?” he asked in a strangled voice. 

“No!” Riley rushed, “No, absolutely not. Of course not, by God!” Riley gasped out, face flushing indignantly, though the source of the indignation was unclear. That Laurence thought Riley would have allowed himself to be so abused? Or that Laurence thought himself capable of such an assault?

“I am deeply ashamed that you were forced to witness me in such a state, and if I did—Offend you in any way—”

“Oh, enough,” Riley said uncomfortably. “You were delirious from fever and that is that.” He took a deep, chest swelling breath. “I did resolve then that you needed an alpha,” he admitted softly, entirely unaware of the way Laurence’s stomach had twisted in revulsion. “I was ashamed of myself that I had let it go so long, I simply—I hadn’t realized how you were suffering, and no one should be made to suffer when there was an easy remedy at hand. I had meant to speak up when we reached port, but…. there was Temeraire. I had no idea how such a thing might be managed with a dragon, and you were so well recovered by then that I thought it must have been only imagination, and so...well, I did not speak, did I?” 

He finished the speech and looked up finally, meeting Laurence’s eyes. A storm raged in Laurence’s chest, his stomach turning again, and again, and again with the knowledge of how closely he brushed against disaster. Temeraire had saved him many times, and Laurence felt a wash of shame at this, remembering how poorly he had behaved the first week of Temeraire’s life, feeling that the risk to himself would increase and resenting Temeraire for it. Little could he have imagined that Temeraire had saved him by the mere fact of his existence. 


	18. Chapter Seventeen

They returned to a final review of the list with a new awkwardness between them. In a complete reversal, Laurence found himself unexpectedly grateful that the two alphas would be accompanying him home. Riley’s opinion that he  _ needed _ an alpha would certainly be shared by others, and those others may not have had their opinions tempered by nearly a decade of friendship. With abrupt clarity, he could fully well imagine any of Riley’s crew deciding to help him for his own good by tracking down an alpha in an English port and cheerfully seeing Laurence’s life brought to ruin by it. After this conversation, even Riley could not be trusted to not take such an action. The two Chinese alphas, at least, would stand in opposition to such treatment, and for all Li Jian’s infuriating forwardness, Laurence was secure that they would defend him if he were incapable of defending himself, to say nothing of Pan Xuwei.

Laurence took the single sheet of paper, covered in the familiar script of Riley’s elegant hand. He forcefully put aside the horror of imagining the fate he had so narrowly escaped to return to the more important business of seeing them safely home to England. “I will bring it to Lord Li. If he is insisting on sending them with us, he can certainly supply their transport-”

He was interrupted by a crash against the door, not so much a knock as a body running into it at speed. It opened a heartbeat later, spilling one of Riley’s young midshipmen into the room. The scent of smoke came with him, and Laurence and Riley were on their feet even before the midshipman could even gasp out, “ _ Fire!” _

Laurence reached the door first and put the boy out of the way. Riley was on his heels and they scrambled for the hatch, pulling themselves up the stairs hand-over-hand like they were themselves eager midshipmen. Up on the dragon deck, Zheng and the Shao Lung took turns clawing at the planks while sailors and cooks spilled out of the hatch below the deck, coughing and hacking, great bellows of oily smoke chasing after them. The tar on the ropes had softened enough to be running down the rigging, and the air was full of the cloying scent of burning pitch. 

“The galley!” Riley said, even as Laurence stripped out of his jacket and called for an axe. He tossed the coat aside and roughly rolled his sleeves up, taking the hatchet on the way to the dragon deck. He could see a great bustle of activity on shore, smaller boats rowing out to their aid rather than turning to put as much distance between them as possible. 

Temeraire rose abruptly over the side of the vessel, backwinging to hover over the deck. The air of his wingbeats temporarily cleared the air, and Laurence gasped in three quick breaths, though he had to turn himself away from Temeraire to do so. Caught off guard, several other aviators were pushed off balance by the miniature gale and made a mess of the crews organized on the deck.

Between his talons, Temeraire held the ship’s launch, frayed cables still dangling from it. He upturned it, spilling harbor water over the planks in a deluge that knocked one of the Chinese aviators off her feet. Laurence waited for the worst of the flood to spill to the lower deck, and then rushed up the stairs as Temeraire ducked down to fill the launch again. 

Laurence ended up shoulder to shoulder with Li Jian, falling into rhythm with him and Pan Xuwei to weaken the planks. The deck was hot enough to burn him through the soles of his boots, and the steam was blistering hot where Temeraire continued to soak the planks. Distantly, he heard splashes as some of the hands chose to take their chances in the water rather than help save the ship. The smaller Chinese vessels must have been pulling close enough to fish them out.

At a shout from the full-voiced man who had been keeping their time, they backed away as one body. Zheng slammed a massive talon into the center of their spiderweb of rough hackmarks. The deck trembled under their feet, planks splintering, and then Zheng moved out of the way and the Shao Lung roared as she punched at the weakened point in the deck. It gave in with a great shriek of splintering wood. 

Fed new air, the fire below roared up out of the opening. Temeraire dumped another load of stinking harbor water through the hole, and Zheng reached in immediately after to bring out a limp body. More water rained unexpectedly down on them, and Laurence looked up to see an unknown dragon—a light blue middleweight of a breed he didn’t recognize—flying a low pass over them with a great canvas balloon attached to the harness. A dozen of the dragon’s crew had opened the balloon and it spilled messily down on the rigging, sending water sluicing everywhere. 

Temeraire appeared with the more easily directed launch, and poured it directly down into the galley while a second of the blue middleweights lined up for a pass, looking absurdly pregnant from a distance with the balloon full under its belly. Two further loads of water were required to entirely quench the blaze and cool the embers. 

“I think she’s out!” the boatswain called, leaning perilously into the opening to check the heat. A ragged cheer went up even as a third rainstorm poured down on them from above. 

Laurence held his hand up after the last of these and croaked, “That will do, Temeraire!” in a voice thickened with smoke. One of the Chinese aviators had scrambled down the deck and into the foremast rigging to wave a flag at the fire brigade, calling off another dousing.

“Li Laurence Tien,” Pan Xuwei rumbled, his already almost impossibly deep voice further roughened by the smoke to be nearly unrecognizable as human speech. “I apologize,” he said nonsensically, but then pushed into Laurence’s personal space and moved him off the dragon deck by means of simply walking forward. Laurence had no choice but to back down the stairs and away from the still-steaming dragon deck or be bowled over. 

Laurence considered pointing out that if Pan Xuwei had meant to protect him from the fire, he was fifteen sweating minutes too late, but he bit his tongue. The last thing he needed was this living wall of a man to take it into his head to carry Laurence bodily out of any danger in the future. He stepped out of Pan Xuwei’s shadow and wiped at his face with the hem of his equally soiled shirt, feeling dizzy and ill in the wake of the excitement. 

Roland appeared at his elbow a moment later with a bucket of water from the skuttlebut and a ladle. It was stale and brackish, and absolutely heavenly. Laurence took it gratefully, spitting out the first mouthful to clear out the ash and soot from his tongue before taking a long drink. He passed the ladle to Pan Xuwei, who accepted gratefully. Li Jian joined them a moment later, but bypassed the water bucket to lean over the side of the ship. He coughed so violently that he vomited, and would have likely tipped over the side after it but for Pan Xuwei’s giant hand on the back of his robes casually holding him in place. 

Ruan Zhou stumbled down off the dragon deck last, weaving. Laurence had not seen her during the mad struggle, but she was as streaked with soot and sweat as the rest of them. Laurence reached out to steady her as a particularly violent shake of her head nearly made her fall. She caught at his wrist, and then leaned against him, struggling to breathe. Laurence was too shaken to feel any embarrassment at having her pressed against him and only put an arm around her shoulders, rubbing comfortingly at her back while she heaved in air.

“Captains,” Riley said, approaching with a grim look. “Thank you for your assistance.” 

He had stripped off his own jacket at some point, and his cravat hung open at his throat. He was everywhere soaked with sweat that had stained yellow and black during the blaze. The singed edge of his sleeve made Laurence guess that he had been belowdecks, helping to get the men out of the smoke-filled corridors, and had apparently caught fire at least once. Indeed, every inch the deck was packed with sailors and aviators, all staring blankly at the blackened planks of the dragon deck. The  _ Allegiance  _ was a large vessel with a massive deck space, but even it could not comfortably hold all her crew and the three dragon crews besides. Many of them were up in the rigging, at least where it had been far enough from the blaze that the tar had not melted down the ropes. All three of the dragons had lifted off as soon as the deck had been opened. Zheng and Temeraire were both hovering over the ship, but the Shao-Lung had simply slid off into the water. 

Laurence looked over the gathered crews, attempting to make a headcount of his own men, but his eyes burned from the smoke and his vision was still somewhat blurry, making picking individual faces out of the crowd difficult. With relief, he spotted Granby pushing through the crews and calling out names, and Dyer darting around the deck with a second water bucket. 

“Laurence!” Temeraire called, dropping into the water and looking anxiously over the side. Laurence went to him immediately, passing Ruan Zhou off to Riley so he could reach over the rail to put both hands on Temeraire’s face. 

“I am well, my dear. You performed excellently, Temeraire.” 

Temeraire stretched his neck up to nuzzle at Laurence’s chest. “It spread so quickly. I did not know if we would stop it at all.” 

“We likely could not have without you, and Zheng, and our new friend,” Laurence told him seriously. He had little doubt in his mind that the blaze would have spread to the magazines if they had not been able to extinguish it so quickly, and then the ship, and quite likely every soul aboard, would have gone up in a magnificent display. The Chinese vessels still crowded close to them in the water would have been hard pressed to escape, and they would have likely gone up with them, hundreds of lives lost in one terrible tragedy.

“Li Laurence Tien,” Li Jian rasped painfully, stepping up next to him. “We must return you to shore at once.” 

“Certainly not,” Laurence said, easily dismissive. As though he would leave the ship and his crew when it was in such a state!

Riley put a hand on his shoulder, and Laurence started, his muddled mind catching up finally. His crew was aboard, but, of course, the  _ Allegiance _ was not  _ his _ ship. His thoughts twisted around in a brief mire of confusion as he reconciled Temeraire at his side with the ship below him. He flushed, though he had said nothing to give away his momentary confusion. 

“There is nothing else you can do here at the moment, Will. I will have the carpenters evaluate the damage once it is cool enough to get them inside, and we might meet ashore tomorrow to discuss our plans going forward. If you could assist me in finding lodgings for my men this evening, that would be deeply appreciated.”

Laurenced guessed that the request for assistance had been only an attempt to give him something productive to do, but it was work that needed to be done nonetheless, and he was in a unique position to see it done quickly. Despite Laurence’s newly bestowed title, it had been made clear to Riley that his men were not allowed off the ship while in harbor, and any found ashore would be executed for the trespass. Instead, small boats of enterprising merchants had been rowing out to the massive dragon transport nearly non-stop, and a brisk trade had been passing between them, even with the language barrier.

Getting the sailors into tea houses or inns in the city would likely be a lost cause, but Laurence believed the island where Prince Yongxing had stashed Laurence and his crew ‘for their safety’ might still be deserted. At the least, perhaps they could rent space on the smaller vessels in the harbor, pulled far enough out to put the officials at ease. Even with the precautions, Laurence suspected there would be a fair number of the men would sneak ashore and likely never be seen again, assuming that Laurence wasn’t called to account for their behavior himself. He knew well the lengths the hands would go to for a night of drink and whores, even knowing that the dawn may see them at the end of a noose, and he was not confident in the outcome.

Laurence nodded his assent, and Temeraire was only too happy to take him off the still smoldering ship and swim him ashore. Behind him, the rest of the aviators climbed down on to the other two dragons, and all three of them made their way through a maze of junks and smaller merchant vessels, sailors gathered at the railings to cheer wildly as they passed, many even clinging precariously to the sides and reaching out over the open water in an attempt to touch Temeraire as they passed. 

~*~

Lord Li Chia-Hao didn’t blink at the list of supply required to outfit the two dragons and their crews. He accepted the page and glanced over it without any particular attention or interest. With Temeraire’s help, Laurence had translated the list very carefully into Chinese after securing a dozen smaller vessels to be brought to anchor around the  _ Allegiance _ for Riley’s crew. According to Riley, there were thirteen men unaccounted for at the last check, though all was a great mess of confusion with them spread out over such an assortment of ships, and the ones who had jumped during the fire trickling back in as the ships that had fished them out maneuvered over to return them. 

Laurence had been assured that he would not be personally held accountable for the behavior of the crew, but the assurance had done little to calm his nerves, and, to the contrary, had absurdly upset him. He was not held accountable for their behavior because the Chinese officials no longer considered the English sailors to be his countrymen. Riley would be the one taken to task if any of the crew made it ashore to cause mischief, and there was little that Laurence could do to prevent it if the worst came to pass. 

He had spaced his own crew out among the temporary lodgings with orders to keep a watch, and had taken more pleasure than he felt was quite appropriate in ordering Li Jian and Ruan Zhou to set their own crews to the same. He suspected that it was a shameful use of the crew of an imperial dragon formerly in service to the Celestial Court, but Li Jian had not even twitched at the order.

Just before supper, Laurence had gone over the list again with Li An Tien to ensure that no mistakes would be made in the items or the quantities. He had been sure enough of Temeraire’s grasp of the language that he would not have needed another translation for comfort’s sake, but Li An Tien had been so visible distraught at the news of the fire that Laurence hadn’t the heart to send him away when he’d offered to review it. 

“I would appreciate, as well, any recommendations for craftsmen and supplies of timber,” Laurence said as Lord Li Chia-Hao set the list aside. “The  _ Allegiance _ will require significant repair before we will be able to set sail. I have not received a full report, but at a glance, it will likely be another month or more before we are repaired. Much longer than that, and we may need to delay our departure until the spring.” It would be a frustrating delay of better than half a year of cooling their heels if Riley opted to avoid the violent winter storms by remaining in port.

“One should not be too hasty when undertaking long or important journeys,” Li An Tien commented mildly. 

Laurence gave him a sideways look. “Delay for the sake of delay is wasteful,” he returned, and was graced with a look of mild surprise. 

Lord Li Chia-Hao grunted. “His Highness has grown wise,” he said with a hint of amusement. “Do not concern yourself with the repair of the vessel. The palace has dispatched craftsmen already to see to repairs and proper outfitting.” 

“The navy is perfectly capable of seeing to our own repairs,” Laurence said with emphasis that was perhaps not subtle enough, judging by Lord Li Chia-Hao’s expression of faint warning. Laurence should not be surprised by either the presumption or his own frustration in response, but he was also cognizant that the repairs would proceed much more quickly with the assistance of the imperial craftsmen. 

“I understand your imperial brother is anxious to see that you are safely and properly conveyed back to England,” Li An Tien said. 

"I see." Having Laurence and Temeraire underfoot for another six or eight months would only bring additional uncertainty and potential problems for Prince Mianning. It was better to have them on their way as quickly as could be managed. Laurence was inclined not to protest in this case; he would just as soon they were gone himself. He was less sanguine about Riley’s response to having his ship overwhelmed with Chinese carpenters, likely making whatever additional changes they wished to the ship along the way. 

“I will have to extend my gratitude to Prince Mianning,” Laurence said. He would have to ask Temeraire for some recommendations on making a suitable gift. He was reluctant to mention it with Li An Tien and Lord Li Chia-Hao, suspecting that they would make the gesture on his behalf. He already owed them far more than he could ever hope to repay, and would need to start asserting more independence if he had any hope of avoiding future troubles. 

Before either Li An Tien or the Li patriarch could make a suggestion, the door opened. A servant eased into the room, already inclined in a bow. He carried a tray between his hands with a sealed, oilskin-wrapped package. 

“My lord,” the servant said apologetically. “A letter, delivered at the gates for His Highness, Li Laurence Tien.” 

Laurence reached for the sealed package at once. He had seen Riley scarcely two hours before and would see him again in the morning. Any news that could not wait that long would be dire, indeed. Laurence could already feel a headache pulling at his left eye. 

“Delivered by whom?” he asked.

“A Mr. Tharkay. He delivered the package with the front gate and left without giving any additional details. Two of our guards followed him, but he was lost quickly in the crowd.” 

Laurence frowned down at the package, not recognizing the name. If one of Li Jian’s crew had delivered the package, they would have likely remained to see it into Laurence’s hands, and if one of Riley’s crew had made it as far as the front gates and then disappeared into the crowd, there would be problems of a different sort.. The red wax seal was soft, the impression all but entirely lost but for a single point in the upper right-hand corner. He pulled it apart, slipping his finger around the trailing strings of wax, and then shook his hand to dislodge them. 

He had grown so used to reading Chinese in the last weeks that, for a moment, he stared at the English blankly. After a breath, his mind re-ordered, and the words resolved themselves. In shock, he recognized Admiral Lenton’s blunt hand, and took in the direction at a glance - Dover. His lips formed the words silently as he skimmed through the first obligatory paragraphs to the meat of the orders. 

_ And you are hereby required without the loss of a Moment to proceed to Istanbul, there to receive by the Offices of Avraam Maden, in the service of H.M. Selim III, three Eggs now through agreement the Property of His Majesty’s Corps, to be secured against the Elements with all due care for their brooding and thence delivered straightaway to the charge of those Officers appointed to them, who shall await you at the covert at Dunbar… _

He barely needed to read the remainder of the orders and the standard harsh warning,  _ herein neither you nor any of you shall fail, or answer the contrary at your peril. _ The first orders he had received as a new-made captain had set a squall of nerves loose in his gut at the words, but subsequent exposure had made them all but meaningless. He tapped his finger against the parchment and read through the words again. 

“The news seems grim,” Li An Tien said after long enough that Laurence realized he had been quite rudely ignoring them for several minutes, and the servant was still inclined at an uncomfortable angle at his elbow. 

“My apologies,” he said hastily, and then dismissed the servant with his thanks. The man bowed out of the room swiftly. Laurence offered the letter to Li An Tien, who took it with a look of mild curiosity. 

Li An Tien read it swiftly, and then translated it for Lord Li Chia-Hao’s benefit. The lord’s face darkened. “They dare to deliver such a command?” 

“Admiral Lenton is my superior officer,” Laurence hastened to say, interrupting any potential declarations of insult that might very well result in Laurence being forbidden from returning to England until a suitable apology had been delivered. “I will also remind you that recent... developments here have not yet been communicated to England, and will not be delivered for months more.” 

Lord Li Chia-Hao harrumphed, but subsided without voicing further opinions on the orders. 

“You do make an important point,” Li An Tien mused. “News of these recent developments would not yet have reached your admiral. Would he have issued such an order, believing you to be still in the midst of such important negotiations? Had certain events not occurred as they did, you would even now be engaged with talks. Would he have expected you to defy the emperor and leave at such a delicate time?” 

Laurence held his hand out and took the letter back. He studied it again, but the format of the orders was as expected, and, to the best of his recollection, the hand seemed genuine. That being said, he had seen only a spare handful of samples of the admiral’s handwriting, and the pattern of English orders was no great secret. 

“If I may call for my first lieutenant, he may be able to shed more light on the matter.” He waited for the nod from Lord Li Chia-Hao, and then leaned out the door to wave the same servant over. 

Granby wore the brilliant golden cuff clearly displayed when he stepped into the room. Laurence felt a twist of resentment seeing it, but Li An Tien’s expression was unmistakably fond when he noticed the glint of light off the precious metal. Granby was visibly unsure as to why he had been summoned, but his expression cleared when Laurence handed him the orders. 

“My God,” Granby said at once. “Three eggs? They would not have sent for us to collect them unless the timing was already becoming critical.” 

Laurence was inclined to agree, but he brought up Li An Tien’s concerns and watched Granby puzzle through them. “The hand certainly  _ looks _ like Lenton’s, but I take your meaning. All the same, I don’t see how we could ignore them. There may have been some great upset in the war that makes us the closest available crew. We would not have been sent for in anything less than extreme need, given the circumstances.” 

“You are convinced of the authenticity?” 

“I am convinced that we have no real choice in the matter,” Granby said, biting into his bottom lip and turning the packet over to look at the ruined seal.

“The  _ Allegiance _ will not be fit to sail for weeks, possibly months. Surely Lenton would know that even if we should leave immediately upon receipt of these orders, it would take months with the best possible wind to reach Istanbul. With this delay, we will not even leave for a month or more yet.” 

“He could not have even known that we would be able to leave at all,” Granby agreed. “Who delivered the message?” 

“A messenger,” Laurence said with a crooked shrug. “The only name he gave was Tharkay.” 

“I will inquire after this Mr. Tharkay,” Li An Tien offered.

“The East Indiamen might be able to provide some further intelligence as well,” Laurence said, thinking of Mr. Staunton, currently lodging on one of the vessels in the harbor. “If this did come through official channels, the messenger might be familiar. He may have even travelled here on an East India vessel. Mr. Staunton may be able to tell us, or else someone among the East India Company in Guangzhou.”

“A courier dragon will be at your residence by morning to carry a dispatch,” Li An Tien said. “And I will let you know as soon as we have any information, or have located the man himself.” 

“Thank you,” Laurence said, inclining his head to Li An Tien, and then bowing more deeply to Lord Li Chia-Hao. “If you have nothing further, we will take our leave for the night, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I'm saying here is that I don't mess around with that "slow burn" tag. ^_^;


	19. Chapter Eighteen

As promised, one of the slender jade dragons was curled up on the porch like an outrageously overgrown cat when Laurence stepped out to talk to Temeraire in the morning. She woke at the first clatter of his steps on the wood, peeling one almond-shaped eyelid open to look up at him. With languid grace, she stretched, and then bowed low to the deck. 

Laurence had written up the letter the night before with an inquiry to Mr. Staunton of the East India Company, presently lodging in a tea house some short distance from the harbor. In addition to a request for information on one Mr. Tharkay, should he be known, he further asked for recommendations on a suitable guide for an overland journey to Istanbul, if Mr. Tharkay was either unknown or not a reliable choice. 

He had agonized over the phrasing of the letter, cognizant in a way he had not been previously of the impact of his status in China. Mr. Staunton was not of his crew and not in any way under his command, nor engaged to his service. He could not invite the gentleman over to pay him a call for a more civilized conversation when it had been made abundantly clear that the Westerners were not allowed away from the harbor. Even securing a room on land for Mr. Staunton and Riley’s officers had been difficult enough, and they had compromised by renting out the entire teahouse and stationing guards around it. Neither could he go himself without some extreme political twisting to ensure that it was not seen as an official visit from either an imperial prince or an omega of the Li clan.

Laurence had finally settled on an unsatisfactory note, brief nearly to the point of rudeness, as a purely professional inquiry. He had saved the request from being a demand only by asking, politely, for the direction of some other party who may have the information if Mr. Staunton did not. He had then sat and stared at the bottom of the page blankly for a quarter of an hour, absurdly uncertain as to how he should sign the letter, and then angry that he should be uncertain. He had signed it “Captain William Laurence” with a heavy hand and an unintentional slash of the pen below it as if for emphasis. 

He stepped back in for the letter and passed it off to Yu-Lung Song, who left directly. The sun was not entirely above the horizon, and she disappeared in the blink of an eye into a wall of clouds made dark by the lingering night.

Temeraire had been asleep when Laurence and Granby had returned the night before, so Laurence crossed the garden to Temeraire’s pavilion, nodding to the patrolling guards as he went. 

They had grown accustomed to see him moving through the trees in the early morning, and even to seeing him back in his uniform, rather than the elaborate robes they expected of one of their nobility, though he had flustered one young man to the point of stammering unintelligibly the first time he’d encountered the boy. By the quick flickers of his eyes, Laurence’s legs had been the main source of his discomfort. Considering the Chinese fashion of loose robes and even the military fashion of loose trousers, Laurence’s form-fitting knee breeches and tall stockings had obviously been quite a shock. 

Temeraire was awake and stretched out on the warm cobbles, wings spread wide in the first rays of morning sunshine. He lifted his head at Laurence’s approach, arranging himself invitingly. He unleashed a jaw-cracking yawn, displaying miles of gleaming teeth that Laurence could never find the least intimidating. “Good morning, Laurence. Have you slept well?” 

“Well enough, my dear. And you?” In truth, Laurence had grabbed only a few hours well after the moon had reached its zenith and started its decline, but those few hours had been a void of absolute stillness. 

“Quite well,” Temeraire said with another, smaller yawn. A shiver of a stretch went through him, and he curled up tighter around Laurence. “I will miss the pavilion once we are out to sea again, though I suppose now we shall have several weeks more before we leave?” 

Laurence made a low sound. “Perhaps not quite so long.” He withdrew the oilskin package from his coat and unfolded the single sheet to read it aloud for Temeraire, and then sketched out the concerns Li An Tien had raised, and Granby’s thoughts on the matter. 

“Well, of course we must go at once,” Temeraire said, predictably. “An overland journey would be ever so much more interesting than going by sea again. Not that I do not like the  _ Allegiance _ , and Captain Riley - though Purbeck, of course, may go hang - and I have not hunted for any fish myself for weeks, but how famous! I am sure the eggs are quite near to hatching, and we should fetch them at once,” he added with a sideways look at Laurence to test the effect of his argument. 

“The journey would not be easy. I have never traveled through a desert myself, but you may be longing for a sight of the ocean sooner than later,” Laurence warned. 

With his typical unconcern for any danger, Temeraire said, “We shall only fly over it, and there must be all sorts of interesting things to eat and people to meet. Perhaps we shall even meet some other dragons!” 

“So long as you have your priorities in order,” Laurence said, stifling a laugh. “I expect that we will have some additional information soon, and I will want to consult with Riley on the matter.” 

“We will have to speak with the emperor as well, of course,” Temeraire said, quite unconscious of the difficulty that such a conversation would present.

Laurence winced. “Or at least Prince Mianning.” He did not like to think how long they might be delayed waiting on the emperor’s pleasure. He had not seen the emperor since the execution, and had no desire to draw any further attention to himself or Temeraire. He also could not deny that he felt all the same urgency of Temeraire’s position. If it could be managed, he would quietly pick up his crew, take Temeraire, and leave at once. 

With little else to do while they waited for various reports, Laurece sent Dyer after his writing desk to update some overdue correspondence. It had been a struggle to set to paper any kind of report of the mission while dancing around his orientation, and yet impossible to explain the recent events in the midst of the lack. To the admiralty, he had been plain and unapologetic. He could hardly hope to conceal it from his superiors. To his mother and few correspondents, he had been vague, choosing to make small remarks on the local cuisine, the abundance of dragons, and his struggles with learning the language while avoiding any mention of his mission whatsoever. 

While convalescing, he had attempted multiple times to set down a letter to his father. That Lord Allendale would learn of his orientation and the multiple adoptions both was a foregone conclusion. He had too many friends in the ministry, and surely one of them would be quick to pass the news along as soon as Hammond’s report fell into their hands. It would be better, surely it would be better, to hear the news from him. And yet, Laurence was entirely at a loss for how he might explain. Admitting his orientation to his father had been a recurring nightmare for over half of his life. How he should also explain to his proud father that he had been summarily adopted twice over, he hadn’t the faintest notion. Arriving home with a gaggle of Chinese servants and a collar about his throat would make for uncomfortable dinner conversation, to say the least.

Temeraire asked for, and was quickly supplied with, a map of China and Asia to consult on the best possible route for their overland journey. Laurence’s tutor remained to answer Temeraire’s questions. Though he professed himself no great scholar on the topic, Cai Tang was able to confidently describe the people living in various regions, and to give rough estimates of the numbers of dragons living in any given territory. He was even able to list some of the local cuisines, which only piqued Temeraire’s interest even further. Laurence suspected that there would be an array of the described dishes set before Temeraire before nightfall. 

Once he finished his letter to his mother with a warning that he would likely be unable to update his correspondence for some months afterward, Laurence folded up his writing desk and joined Temeraire. The map that had been brought for Temeraire’s perusal was more than two of Laurence’s body lengths across, and perhaps one and a half tall. 

“Would you know the best overland route to Turkey?” Laurence asked. He had to substitute the English for “Turkey,” not knowing its Chinese equivalent. When Cai Tang only gave him a curious look, Laurence took a stick and roughly sketched the coastline to Istanbul from the side of the map. 

“Ah, please forgive me, Highness,” Cai Tang said with a bow. “Travel outside of China is not encouraged. I am afraid that my knowledge is poor beyond the borders of the empire, but I will inquire if a more complete map might be found.” 

Laurence nodded regretfully. That would have been far too easy of a solution, though he knew that some merchants certainly did travel outside of China. He imagined that he could appeal to the local governor for a recommendation, but he feared that doing so would see the poor merchant in question immediately pressed into service. He thought back on the treatment of the East Indiamen who had been commandeered by Prince Yongxing. He could not imagine that their own countrymen would be immune if they would treat citizens of a foreign nation with such cavalier disregard. 

As a never-ending font of curiosity, Temeraire kept Cai Tang at the map for another hour, applying to him for stories and asking him to repeat descriptions of this dish or that, and creating quite an itinerary of places he would like to visit. The list was largely informed by how appealing he found their cuisine, and Laurence did not mean to spoil his mood by pointing out that if they did choose to take an overland route, they would perforce have to take the most direct path and would not be able to detour for their own pleasure. 

Cai Tang was giving Temeraire a fanciful story of the creation of the so-called Floating Peaks when Riley was announced from some distance. He was surrounded by wary guards, and Laurence suspected he had been allowed to leave the harbor only under the mistaken assumption that Riley was his subordinate. Neither of them had chosen to contradict the notion so long as it was not stated outright. Laurence waved him over, noting that Riley was still streaked with soot, and his eyes lined darkly from lack of sleep. 

“Captain Laurence,” Riley greeted, to Cai Tang’s obvious disapproval. “Temeraire. I trust you both slept well?” 

“Well enough, though it doesn’t look as though I can say the same for you,” Laurence said. He did not ask if Riley had gotten any sleep, and he did not wonder if Riley had stayed aboard the  _ Allegiance  _ all night, despite the offer of lodgings at the tea house—he certainly had. Laurence would not have left the ship overnight for anything shy of a direct order if she had been his, and even then, only under protest. 

“I’ve had the carpenters aboard to see to the damage. It is not quite so bad as I feared, but my estimate for repair was nonetheless too hopeful. The galley, of course, is a total loss, as is the dragon deck. The forward hatch and much of the surrounding corridor will need to be replaced as well. I am also concerned about the mizzenmast, and I would like it replaced before we leave dock. The lower decks luckily sustained no fire damage, though they were absolutely choked with smoke and will need to be aired somehow. Certainly, it will not be less than six weeks before I am comfortable sailing again, and more likely two months.” 

Laurence nodded, having expected as much. He drew in a breath to warn Riley of the imminent arrival of carpenters from the palace, but Riley beat him to it. 

“Your… brother, I suppose, he is? Sent out a… generous contingent of carpenters and shipwrights as soon as it was light enough to see by. Their assistance will perhaps speed things along.” 

Laurence colored. “If the presumption is too great, please say so plainly. I may be able to persuade the prince to leave the repairs in the hands of the ship’s carpenters.” 

“Not at all,” Riley said, though his tone was tight at the interference. “If it will get us ship-shape and underway more quickly, it is all to the good.” 

“I understand,” Laurence said, but he shared a look of sympathy with Riley. 

“Please do express my thanks to your brother.” 

Laurence coughed uncomfortably to hear Riley call the prince his brother. Riley had met both of his actual brothers, and had dined at Wollaton Hall more than once. The situation was miserably strange for both of them. While he had been surrounded by only the Li clan and his own crew, it had been as though he were in a different world entirely, and now his worlds were colliding.

Straightening, Laurence said, “I will. However, Riley, there is another matter I wished to discuss with you.” Before he could explain the new orders, a flicker of shadow overhead called their attention. Yu-Lung Song landed delicately in the courtyard a respectful distance from Temeraire. She offered Temeraire and Laurence a deep bow, and then pulled the silk carrying sash over her head and presented Laurence with a sealed package. 

Laurence sent for Granby to avoid having to make too many explanations of it, and discussed the orders with Riley while they waited for Granby to arrive. Riley’s response was predictably against the notion of traveling overland, and he immediately brought up many of the same points that Li An Tien had suggested the night before. Laurence allowed Temeraire to argue for the tentative notion of traveling overland, having not fully resolved on the course himself, and only listened as the debate grew more heated between them.

Granby was misted with sweat and slightly out of breath by the time he appeared, but Laurence made no comment despite the deep red flush on his cheeks. Laurence offered him a seat and opened the package from Staunton. The note had obviously been dashed off quickly, though it awkwardly addressed Laurence as His Imperial Highness Celestial Captain William Laurence Li Tien. Fast on the heels of annoyance was the thought that the titles seemed to be out of order, and Laurence stared at them for a moment in mounting horror. It was the first time he had seen the whole string of it together in English, and it drove home the absurdity of his situation. 

Clearing his throat, he read aloud, “Mr. Tharkay is known to me, though I cannot claim any great knowledge of his personal Character. He has, from time to time, carried out various commissions on behalf of the East India Company, and has always been a reliable sort. He is somewhat strange in manners, but I find him generally trustworthy. If I might be of any further assistance, do not hesitate to call on me,” Laurence read aloud. The letter concluded with a wholly unnecessary  _ May I wish you fond congratulations on your recent adoption _ , and an unsubtle hint that Laurence would be welcome to pay a call any time he wished. 

At the bottom of the letter, Staunton had appended a quick list of various projects that Mr. Tharkay had carried out on his behalf and the results of each. Most were deliveries of one sort or another, though Tharkay had twice been contracted to track down stolen goods, and each instance showed a positive outcome. From what Laurence could tell, he had carried an overland dispatch for the East India Company at least once, it also going so far as Istanbul before being handed off to another caretaker. 

“That seems promising,” Temeraire hinted.

“His references check out at least,” Granby added. He was clearly on Temeraire’s side of the argument, but Laurence could not dispute that this Mr. Tharkay’s record gave him some hope for the admittedly risky notion of leaving the  _ Allegiance _ behind.

“He is just as likely to lead you to a trap and leave you for bandits as take you across a desert!” Riley said, and then pointed to the map. “Two deserts.” 

“We have not even spoken to the man,” Laurence said, giving Riley a quelling look. “We can hardly malign his intentions when he is as yet unaware that there are intentions to be had. We may not even be able to find him,” Laurence pointed out, though Staunton’s note did include a spare handful of locations in Guangzhou where Mr. Tharkay might be found, assuming he had returned that way. 

“Admiral Lenton could not have intended you to take such a risk,” Riley tried one more time. 

“I cannot see how else I should interpret ‘ _ without the loss of a moment,’ _ when Temeraire is perfectly healthy and able to go, particularly considering that it will be at least another month and a half before the  _ Allegiance _ will set sail.” 

“Do dragons not remain in the shell for years? Decades, some of them?” Riley asked, turning to Granby, though Granby was unlikely to be an ally for him in the argument. 

“Oh, sure,” Granby said easily, “but they would not have purchased eggs that were not at least half-way to hatching. The further along the egg, the more likely it will be viable, and with the war on, we can’t exactly afford to wait a decade or three for the beasts to hatch.” 

“Certainly not,” Temeraire put in with a firm nod. 

Laurence tapped his fingers on Staunton’s letter. “We will give it some time to see if Li An Tien is able to dig up anything more on Mr. Tharkay. In the meantime, John, see if you cannot do some asking around yourself. The sooner we locate him for an interview, the better. I would prefer to speak to him in person in any event.” 

“If you are resolved to this, I can hardly stop you,” Riley said unhappily. “I only hope you will not come to regret it.”

~*~

The following day, Laurence and Granby walked swiftly down a narrow, crowded street. They were in a far less affluent area of town, and though the street would have been wide enough for Temeraire to walk down, it was so choked with stalls and people, that Temeraire had been forced to remain at the guest house. Beyond even that consideration, Laurence had wanted to make the trip without his omnipresent bubble of minders. He had been able to slip out the gates with only Granby by virtue of having the runners create a bit of a fuss at the other end of the property. 

It was the first time that Laurence had been exposed to anything other than the clean, neatly ordered streets surrounding the palace or the Li estate. Buildings of various shapes and sizes were crammed tightly together with tents visible in some alleyways, and merchant stalls jostling for real estate. There was the occasional horse-drawn cart, and a number of palanquins pushing through the crowds, but otherwise the streets were choked with bodies.

For the outing, Laurence had left the heavily jeweled collar behind, but had reluctantly tied one of the cloth collars around his throat in its place. He remembered his young would-be assassin screaming as he stared at his naked wrists gushing blood with his hands left on the executioner’s block. Laurence had no desire to witness it again, and suspected that him not wearing a collar would not excuse any unwary merchant who tried to get his attention if they were caught. 

To better blend with the crowd, he and Granby were both wrapped in simple robes, and they had procured a pair of pointed woven hats from a stall in exchange for one of the local coins. Despite these measures, Laurence was already head-and-shoulders above most of the people in the street, and Granby had a further four inches on even him. They stuck out badly, and did garner attention as they followed Granby’s hastily-written instructions down the avenue, but the first sight of Laurence’s collar had any intrepid entrepreneurs backing quickly away. 

Despite the confusing maze of streets, they found the tea house where Tharkay had apparently been staying without difficulty. Granby had not offered up his source for the information, and Laurence had not asked. He did not want to know the answer in case Lord Li Chia-Hao applied to him for it later. Granby was friendly with some number of the Li household guards and members of Li Jian’s crew, and Laurence had no wish to see any of them punished for it.

Even being only a simple strip of silk, Laurence’s collar had them immediately and excitedly ushered to a rough hewn table in a corner, where the other patrons rubbernecked to stare. They were brought tea, soup, and dried fruit while Laurence tried to get the establishment’s owner to stop assuring them that it was the best quality tea in the city long enough for Laurence to ask after their quarry. She spoke very quickly, and her accent was far different from what Laurence had become accustomed to in the palace, making her words difficult to parse out, and his own apparently equally so. He had to repeat himself several times while she stared at him in something like fascination. 

“Oh! Mr. Tharkay? Yes,” she said, head tilted curiously. “I saw him earlier. Mei Long!” she shouted piercingly over one shoulder, the pitch making Laurence flinch. “Go get Mr. Tharkay! Top room!” 

A child made a mad dash up the stairs, and the woman turned back to beam at Laurence and Granby. Out of politeness, Laurence sampled the soup while Granby took one of the powdered persimmons. Laurence complimented her, though the soup was inedibly piquant. While she exclaimed on the origins of the recipe—her great grandmother having brought it north from the Hunan province some five decades past—Laurence hastily took a persimmon to cool his tongue. 

The child returned with a man following behind. Tharkay was of some oriental extraction and marginally taller than most of the surrounding men, but would still be perhaps two or three inches shy of Laurence’s height. His hair was loose about his shoulders, giving him a roguish appearance in concert with his rough, layered clothing, but he was clean shaven and his eyes were bright in his face. Laurence guessed that they were of an age, though the weathering to Tharkay’s skin made it difficult to be certain. 

Laurence’s back straightened as Tharkay drew nearer. Whatever else he was, he was also an alpha, and by the curious flicker of his gaze, he similarly recognized Laurence for his own orientation at once. Tharkay’s sharp eyes slid between Laurence and Granby, and his expression settled into something very carefully and deliberately neutral. After a beat, he spoke rapidly to the owner, who hit him lightly on the arm and made some rebuttal that was too fast for Laurence to catch. 

At length, she departed, dragging the curious child with her, and Tharkay stepped up to their table. He did not immediately take the seat that Granby nudged out in invitation, but stared at Laurence in a startlingly direct manner. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of a call from his Imperial Highness?” Tharkay asked in a perfect drawing room drawl that quite shocked Laurence into fumbling his reply. Tharkay compounded this by inclining his head in a mocking bow.

“I beg you keep your voice down,” Laurence said. He did not think any of the other guests were likely to know English, but he had been surprised by that prejudice twice already, and was disinclined to try for a third. He gestured to the chair, though he was very conscious of the wall against his back and the position of other guests trapping him there with Tharkay now between him and escape. “Please, if you would be so kind as to join us?”

Tharkay considered them both for a long moment, his eyes assessing their poor disguises and lingering on the blue silk collar almost obscured beneath Laurence’s robes. Finally, he drew the chair back and sat. The tea room’s owner appeared again, hustling along a strong young man carrying a heavy tray of dishes. 

These were arranged on the table with obvious pride, each one explained as being the secret recipe of such-and-such relative, all of whom had served emperors and princes the exact same dish of heavily seasoned chicken, or pickled vegetables, or noodles in gravy. Tharkay observed this theater with a crooked smile, and Granby finally had to send her away with a handful of coins and an urgent request for privacy. 

Laurence despaired at the bright red color of most of the dishes, but politely took some rice and sampled a few. Granby was far more adventurous, and breathed frantically around a mouthful of thin strips of meat garnished with great slices of peppers. Tharkay took a bowl himself and was comfortable picking bits and pieces off the dishes, seemingly happy to ignore Laurence, for all that Laurence had the impression he had the full weight of Tharkay’s attention. 

“I understand that you delivered a letter for me two night hence?” Laurence broached, getting himself together. Tharkay’s very presence made his skin itch, and it was a task to keep his legs from jumping nervously under the table. Captain Barstowe was no longer his only example of an alpha, but he could not so easily suppress the anxiety of being unexpectedly face-to-face with one. 

“I did,” Tharkay answered, dabbing delicately at the corners of his mouth with a white cloth. He sat perfectly straight in his chair, his left hand resting properly in his lap, his table manners as refined as anything Laurence would expect to see in an English nobleman’s dining room. It was somewhat disconcerting coupled with his appearance and the prickly sensation at the back of Laurence’s neck screaming  _ danger _ . 

Clearing his throat, Laurence asked after his route, and the providence of the letter. 

“I came overland,” Tharkay said, head tilted curious. “I was employed by Mr. Avraam Maden at the behest of the English embassy. I trust there are no concerns with the contents of the package?” he prodded, but his tone seemed to be inviting Laurence to make a complaint, and his head tilted slightly toward Granby as he spoke.

“None,” Laurence said firmly, narrowing his eyes. “I find that I am in need of a guide for myself and my crew going back the same way. I wondered if I might employ you for such a task?” 

Tharkay’s eyes widened, this apparently being the first thing about the visit that had truly startled him. “You wish to employ me as a guide?” he repeated with subtle emphasis on each word so that Laurence could not tell what part of the notion Tharkay found more incredulous.

“I was referred to you by Mr. Staunton of the East India company. The journey itself cannot be delayed, and, as you have made the trip recently, I imagine you are familiar with the route.” 

“I am,” Tharkay said, setting his eating sticks down on a block of wood designed for the purpose. He sat back in his chair and examined Laurence. “I would not suggest such a route for you,” he said finally. “It is a difficult trip. The desert is never particularly forgiving, but it is especially unkind this time of year. A single man alone may navigate such a place more easily than a large party, presumably including at least one dragon?” 

“Yes, one dragon.” Laurence outlined their numbers and emphasized the need for haste, though he did not divulge the contents of the letter, suddenly remembering the softened wax seal and wondering if perhaps Tharkay already knew of their mission. Weeks of travel through the elements explained the damage to the seal, but it could have also been broken and then melted intentionally to reseal the packet. 

Laurence was at something of a loss on how to address Tharkay. Based on his flawless English accent, he may have expected Laurence to bow his head and call him “Alpha,” and yet he did not show the least offense or surprise at not being addressed so. He also displayed none of the overly solicitousness of the Chinese alphas Laurence had encountered. He did not carry the air of either a servant or a gentleman, and clearly was unbothered by either Laurence’s orientation, or his adopted titles. 

Tharkay seemed well aware of Laurence’s struggle, and continued boldly meeting his eyes, his gaze asking a question that Laurence could not interpret. Nevertheless, Tharkay answered their questions readily and succinctly, and, when applied to, led them upstairs to show them his traveling kit. It was well cared for, but equally well used. The hand-drawn map he offered Laurence looked to be a close match to the much larger version Laurence had seen at the guest house, though it extended far further west.

“If you will take the contract, meet us tomorrow noon at the Li estate. I will let them know you are expected,” Laurence said at the conclusion of their negotiations. Tharkay’s services would come at a high price, and he looked mildly surprised when Laurence did not haggle with him, but Laurence had no intention of building any animosity in their guide before setting out for such a potentially dangerous trek, during which they would be almost entirely at his mercy. 

They made their farewells and hurried out of the tea house, ducking out of the door while the owner’s back was turned. 

“He seems an odd fellow,” Granby said once they were some distance down the street. 

“He is alpha,” Laurence answered. 

Granby stopped so abruptly that the man behind him plowed into his back, sending him stumbling forward several paces while the man cursed. Laurence caught him before he could fall, and saw a watching merchant blanch, her eyes darting between Laurence’s collar and the hand Granby had on his arm. 

Laurence reassured her quickly before she could make up her mind to scream for the authorities and set Granby back to his feet. They hurried away, not trying to speak again until they had turned from the crowded lane to the broader avenue. It would be another hour’s brisk walk back to the Li estate, and they did not linger. Laurence suspected that there was already a search party being assembled, though he had directed his crew to inform anyone asking that he was attending to business in his room and did not wish to be disturbed in order to delay the inevitable. 

“Sir, we can find another guide,” Granby said in a low hiss once they were able to open their stride on the less crowded street. 

“He comes recommended, and I cannot see any other impediments,” Laurence responded, pushing down the immediate urge to agree. “In the time it would take us to find another reputable guide, the  _ Allegiance  _ could be repaired and already underway.”

“Then we might wait and go by sea after all.” 

Laurence turned to glare at him, and Granby flushed. They fell silent once more, saving their breath for the quick pace. Between their height, their speed, and the silver embroidery winking on Laurence’s collar, people moved out of their way, and they made good time back to the estate. Laurence slowed them for the last several blocks so they would not arrive panting and out of breath, and they passed their straw hats off to a pair of children playing outside a villa a block before their final turn. 

There was indeed a group of guards gathered at the gate when they turned that last corner and came into view of the estate. Li Jian was at the head of the crowd, issuing orders, but he stopped mid-sentence upon spotting Laurence and glared fiercely. 

“Have you enjoyed your stroll, little brother?” Li Jian asked quietly as the guards parted to let Laurence and Granby through. His eyes narrowed dangerously, but his tone was polite, and he smiled at them. 

“Immensely,” Laurence answered in the same tone. He nodded to the guards, returned Li Jian’s stiff smile, and passed through the gates without another word of explanation. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At some point in the future, I may write this interaction from Tharkay's POV as a oneshot. ^_^ I also have Granby's POV on his heat-sharing with Li An Tien for future oneshots. Let me know if there are any others you would find interesting!


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short update for you guys this week, sorry. I've had to take an emergency trip out of town for a family emergency. Depending on how things go with my grandmother, I'm not sure if I'll have a chapter up next week.

It was nearly precisely noon when Granby nudged the door of Laurence’s borrowed office open and leaned in. “Sir, perhaps you’d best come out,” he said. His mouth was flattened into an annoyed line and his brows were lowered over his eyes. Combined with his perpetual sunburn, the expression was likely a good deal more fierce than he’d intended. 

Laurence frowned, but he tucked his watch away and sanded his page. He could have easily outfitted such a party for a trip by sea, or even overland anywhere in England, but the sheer vastness of the distance they would be crossing, as well as the unknown factors of the deserts, the mountains, and the availability of resupply along the way had been giving him a headache. He had asked where he might obtain a more complete map of the territory between Peking and Istanbul, and an even larger map had been assembled for his and Temeraire’s benefit. Assuming that both his maths and the Chinese maps were accurate, it was some 4,400 miles as the dragon flew from Peking to Istanbul, and that was making no allowances for territory they may not be able to fly directly over for any number of reasons. 

He closed the inkwell and set the pen upright in its stand. Granby straightened and pushed the door open the rest of the way, and then led him through the peaceful orchard and out through the guesthouse gates. At the main gates, there was something of a commotion, a group of Li guards facing off with several of Laurence’s crew, though Laurence was not able to see the cause until he peered over one guardsman’s shoulder and found Tharkay observing the scene with an amused expression. 

“What is going on here?” Laurence asked in Chinese, making the guard over whose shoulder he had been looking jump. 

“Your H- Captain Laurence,” the guard said, turning quickly to give him a bow. “We have strict orders not to allow unknown persons into your presence. For your safety.” 

“This man is my guest,” Laurence said. “As I am the one who asked him to meet me here, he is hardly unknown.” 

The guards exchanged uneasy glances. Laurence disliked putting them in a position of disobeying their superior officer. He even less liked the notion that Li Jian, or any member of the Li household, meant to hamper their efforts to depart in such a manner when their arguments hadn’t been successful. 

Ignoring the discomfort of the guards, Laurence took a step back. “If you would, Mr. Tharkay?” 

Eyes glittering in some dark amusement, Tharkay inclined his head to the guards on either side and stepped through the gate. The aviators followed behind him, and Laurence noted the looks passing between the aviators and the Li guardsmen with dismay. He could only hope that they were well on their way before any real rivalry struck up between the two parties. Despite their recent meddling, Laurence could be nothing but grateful to the Li clan, and he had no desire to cause any disruption to their house. 

“My apologies, Mr. Tharkay,” Laurence said as he turned to lead the way back to the guest house. 

Tharkay’s quick, curious eyes took in the estate as they moved, returning frequently in frank contemplation of Laurence’s profile. His expression was thoughtful and intense in a way that made Laurence’s neck prickle with unease. He walked close to Laurence’s side, an intentional choice that Laurence suspected was to gauge his reaction to the proximity as much as to test the tolerance of the guards. Said guards looked universally outraged at the scant hand’s breadth that separated them. In truth, Laurence was not comfortable with his nearness, and it was a great effort to suppress the shudders running up his spine. 

Laurence bit down on the urge to tell him to back off or to simply move away from him. On his opposite side, Granby was nearly as close, and habitually walked with him just so. He was determined not to allow Tharkay to see him unsettled, and it would be better to hurdle whatever tests Tharkay had in mind early into their acquaintance. Laurence would have no part of allowing the alpha to believe that he would be easily cowed. 

“Have you eaten?” Laurence asked politely. 

“Yes,” Tharkay answered without elaboration. His chest shook slightly in a silent chuckle as the bulk of Laurence’s omnipotent guard presence shadowed them closely through the orchard to the steps of the guest house. 

The meeting passed without incident. Tharkay neatly shredded Laurence’s attempts at calculating their supply needs, dictating a new list that included a string of no less than 30 camels to be purchased at the edge of the Taklamakan desert. He made several suggestions as well for their outfitting, and only tilted his head with a poorly suppressed smile when Laurence flatly refused to abandon their aviator’s uniforms in exchange for local dress. 

“As you wish,” Tharkay said. His ever-present smirk was growing quickly tiresome. 

Laurence called his clerk in once they had a serviceable list of supply that could be purchased before they left Peking. Zhang Xiaoning was a slight man with a wide gap between his two front teeth that gave him a whistling lisp when he spoke, but he spoke some English, and he wrote Chinese in a clear hand that Laurence could usually read. The other of the two clerks, Lu Yimou, allegedly wrote in beautiful calligraphy that looked to Laurence mostly like scribbles, and spoke only a spare dozen or so words of English.

“If you would be so kind as to assist me in procuring these items?” Laurence handed him the list, and then counted out several guineas. “If the merchants will not take gold, kindly inform me, and I will see about having the guineas exchanged.” 

Zhang Xiaoning gave the list a dubious once over, but he accepted the pouch of guineas with a bow. 

“Take any of the crew you might need to transport the goods back,” he said. “Mr. Tharkay will accompany you.” 

“Yes, Captain,” Zhang Xiaoning said, giving Tharkay a sideways look. He straightened and waited with an imperious air for Tharkay to finish his tea and stand. Zhang Xiaoning bowed again to Laurence as he backed out of the room, and Laurence did not miss his disapproving look when Tharkay did not make a similar gesture on the way out. 

Laurence suspected that being sent out on a supply run was outside of the scope of Zhang Xiaoning’s duties, but Laurence would need Granby for the rest of the day, and none of the other officers had quite such a good grasp of the language. He shuddered to imagine the mishaps that would result from such miscommunications, and he was not entirely sure that Tharkay would volunteer any correction if a merchant either misunderstood or took advantage of the language barrier.

The door had barely closed before it opened again and Li Jian stepped in. He inclined into a perfunctory bow and then crossed his arms over his chest and stared hard at Laurence. “Who was that alpha?” 

Laurence kept his eyes on his ledger as he painstakingly crossed out the previous entries and wrote in the new above them, but he did glance up. “His name is Mr. Tharkay. I have hired him as a guide, and I would thank you to inform your men of it. I do believe I told you I was expecting a guest at noon.” 

Li Jian’s mouth worked soundlessly for several moments. “You _hired_ him?” 

Laurence stopped writing and blinked at him. Of the many objections he had been anticipating, that had not been one. “I require the services of such a person. He comes recommended.” 

“He is an _alpha_ , and does not have a clan. He should be honored that you have even spoken to him. How dare he demand payment!”

Laurence sat back, so startled that he hardly knew how to respond. “I have requested a service of him. One that is furthermore dangerous to his person and will consume the whole of his time for months. Of course I mean to compensate him, and well.” 

All at once, he understood Tharkay’s vague surprise, the strange emphasis when he had asked, “You wish to hire me as a guide?” This confirmed his suspicion that it would have been better in keeping with local custom for Laurence to simply demand his service, even, apparently so extraordinary a service as this. The sheer audacity of the idea rubbed against the grain. That Li Jian, an alpha himself, would consider such arrangement acceptable was boggling to the mind. 

“We would have secured a more appropriate person on your behalf,” Li Jian said. He was obviously both offended and annoyed that Laurence had taken it on himself to make the arrangements. 

Laurence considered and dismissed several responses before settling for a more politic answer. He took a slow breath and forced some civility into his voice. “I am accustomed to handling such details myself. I will certainly seek out advice for any difficulties that arise in future.” 

Not in the least mollified, Li Jian said, “The transport of three very large dragons and their crew is no casual matter. We will need to consult with the supply corps—”

“ _One_ dragon,” Laurence interrupted firmly. Arranging for water and supply for three dragons with nearly two hundred men between them, not to mention the weight of their baggage, was out of the question. Getting Temeraire and his crew across the desert alive would be difficult enough. He had hoped to have this conversation with the Li patriarch, Li An Tien, and Li Jian all at once, but allowing Li Jian to labor under a false assumption smacked too much of cowardice. 

Li Jian narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?” 

“If you still intend to accompany me to England, you and Captain Ruan Zhou will do so aboard the _Allegiance_ with your crews.” 

“Little brother, have you-”

“ _That_ will be enough,” Laurence interrupted sharply. “I understand that our relationship is somewhat complicated, but you will not refer to me as _didi_ in public again, and I suspect this is not something you should have done in any case. I can hardly curtail whatever form of address a member of the Li clan may use to refer to me in private, but I will demand respect from my subordinates where courtesy is lacking.” 

Li Jian’s face flushed darkly. At his sides, his hands curled into fists so tight that Laurence could hear the faint creak of his bracers straining as his fists turned inward. He very pointedly met the alpha’s eyes, refusing to give any space to the small, shivering thing deep in his stomach that feared that anger.

“You cannot undertake such a long and dangerous journey alone,” Li Jian said through his teeth. In his anger and frustration, his accent thickened until Laurence could barely understand the words. 

“I will not be undertaking such a long and dangerous journey alone. My crew and Temeraire will all be present. Further, I will make a request that at least one of the cooks accompany us, if they are willing, for Temeraire’s sake.” 

“You are an omega of the Li clan—”

“—I am a captain of His Majesty’s aerial corps—”

“—and an imperial prince!” Li Jian shouted over him. “You cannot expect that Lord Li and the emperor himself will lose face for your stubbornness!”

“If they choose to present my pursuit of my duties as a loss of face on their part, that is their decision.” 

“It will not need to be presented in any such way for it to be understood! A newly adopted prince, a newly adopted _omega_ , leaving the country as though cast into exile, sneaking about with not even the semblance of an appropriate escort—”

Laurence stood with both fists planted on the desk. “Do not suggest to me, sir, that a politician cannot spin my departure any which way it so suits them! Nor do I intend any _sneaking_! You may follow me to the border of the desert bugling trumpets if you so choose, but you will go no further!” 

“You are too much!” Li Jian roared, throwing both hands into the air with an explosion of frustrated noise.

“ _You_ have placed yourself under my command, Captain!” Laurence reminded him. “Until such a time as you choose to leave my service—” 

“I am your alpha!” 

“ _You are no such thing!_ ” Laurence said harshly, the words coming out in a low, automatic snarl of such venom that Li Jian was startled out of his tirade. 

Li Jian took a step back, staring open-mouthed at Laurence. His expression settled into one of genuine hurt, and Laurence took a slow breath. Li Jian had not meant it in the way that Laurence’s nightmares had always presented exactly that phrase. Li Jian did not have dominion over him, and he was not claiming Laurence as his property. Laurence bowed his head to regain control of his temper, his collar brushing, feather soft, against the underside of his chin. 

“You have my apologies, Captain. It was inappropriate to raise my voice in such a manner,” Laurence said finally, sitting back down. His weight fell roughly into the chair. It creaked in protest, the sound unnaturally loud in the silence following so hard and heavy on the heels of their shouting. 

Li Jian let out a rough breath of his own, his posture slumping. For several long moments, there was nothing by the sound of their breaths shivering harshly in the air. Laurence could hear the gentle _tickticktick_ of his watch from his pocket. 

“Please sit,” Laurence said finally, gesturing to the chair that Tharkay had so recently vacated. 

Hesitating a moment as though on the verge of simply storming out of the room, Li Jian took the chair. He sat rigidly at the edge of it, his back painfully straight. 

“Do you understand what that statement might mean to me - to any omega in Europe?” 

Li Jian laughed shortly, derisively. “I was eight when that missionary came to teach us English. He was disgusted by our father, our clan, though he hid it well enough. When I presented at sixteen, he caught me alone, and he put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed so tight I thought they would break. He said, _do you know that it is against God’s will, this way you people live? Do you understand that God has placed the alpha over the omega? That you should be above your brother in all things? That you are_ better _than him?_ ”

Laurence winced. A lifetime of pulpit sermons came back to him then, raging lectures on the proper places of alphas, betas, omegas; the story of Adam, the first alpha, given Eve, the first omega, to slake all his lusts. She had tricked him into eating the forbidden fruit, and he had been cursed with a terrible rage as the price of his God-given strength. She, in turn, had been given the task of calming him as her penance. Their children would bear the curse and the responsibility of it for all time. Laurence, the Church attested, had a duty to bow at some alpha’s feet and bear the brunt of their temper for the sake of that damned apple.

He could well imagine the response of a missionary to seeing the way alphas and omegas existed in China. That alphas were both responsible for and perfectly capable of controlling themselves without an omega to beat as it pleased them, and that omegas were capable of and expected to be leaders and creators. 

“Do you think I would do that to you?” Li Jian asked. His mouth twisted faintly in disgust at the thought. 

“No,” Laurence said. He tried to make himself sound more sure of it than he felt. He realized that he _did_ expect any moment for the veil to be lifted and to find that everything had been illusion. “What happened? To that missionary,” he clarified. 

Li Jian grinned, but it was not a pleasant expression. “He was executed, and his brethren were driven into the sea.” 

Laurence flinched, an automatic protest coming to his lips that men of the cloth would be treated so abominably, and yet a dark sense of vindication, of pleasure coiled lower in his gut. He said nothing at all, but Li Jian seemed to read both the protest and the sickly joy in him and only smirked. Laurence did not ask who had executed the missionary; he did not want to hear that a sixteen year-old Li Jian had done it himself and suspected that had been the case. 

“You, better than anyone, should understand then why I can’t let you go back to that place unprotected,” Li Jian said quietly.

“I could ask for no better protector than Temeraire.” 

“There are places Lung Tien Xiang can’t go. Places where _I_ can protect you when he cannot. You say I can't call you _didi_ in public. Fine, I will not, but that does not change the fact that you _are_ that to me—my brother, and more. It is both my responsibility and my pleasure to protect you.” 

“How could I be anything to you?” Laurence asked, exasperated. “You have known me for a spare handful of weeks, and, in truth, you know nothing about me at all! Stay here and protect your actual brother.”

“Li An Tien is well protected in our home. You are the one going on crazy duck chases, making yourself vulnerable,” Li Jian said. His voice took on a petulant note.

“I think you mean ‘wild goose chase,’” Laurence said after a confused moment. 

Li Jian waved a dismissive hand. “Ducks, goose. You’re doing a dumb thing. At least let me help you catch your wild birds.” 

“Not on this trip,” Laurence responded. “I cannot, in any kind of good conscience, take three heavyweight dragons and nearly two hundred men across a desert. I will not. Temeraire and I must go, as we are ordered. You and Captain Ruan Zhou will meet us in Gibraltar, if our travels so align, and in England if they do not. You will render unto Captain Riley any service that is in keeping with your duty, and extend that service to the person of Admiral Lenton if I am delayed. Those are _your_ orders. Or, you may remain at your home. I will not demand any service of you that you are not willing to give.” 

Li Jian made a loud groaning noise and dropped back into his chair, pressing both hands to his face. “Why did my brother have to adopt such a person?” he asked the air, speaking roughly in his native tongue. To Laurence’s deep shock, he then proceeded to throw a short fit like a tired toddler, kicking his legs and rolling in his chair. 

Laurence had nearly resolved to call for a physician when Li Jian abruptly sat upright again. He put both hands on the desk and leaned forward. “You are going to be a problem for me,” he said.

“Then remain home!” Laurence snapped.

“No!” Li Jian returned in the same tone. He huffed out a sharp breath, and then grinned and said, “I like problems.”

Laurence managed not to roll his eyes only by virtue of closing them. “Very well,” he said. “Then you have your orders.”

Brightening abruptly, Li Jian said, “Pan Xuwei is not a captain! He will go with you.” 

“Li Jian-!”

“Give me this, little brother—Ah! We are not in public!” Li Jian said forestallingly, holding up one finger when Laurence darkened in irritation and opened his mouth to protest. “I really will be in big trouble if you go alone and die. Just take Pan Xuwei. He is the size of a mountain, and he’s a skilled blacksmith, besides. Your servants have to go with you, too.” 

“I draw the line at taking laundresses and poets through the desert to subject them to discomfort and likely privation for no cause,” Laurence said firmly. 

“As you say!” Li Jian agreed too-readily. “So, Pan Xuwei and just the more useful of the entourage, it’s decided. Thank you for being so accommodating, Captain.” 

This last he said through the door as he retreated, already calling out orders while Laurence could only gape at the closed screen and take slow breaths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the end of "your entourage" lmao


	21. Chapter Twenty

“Captain, must I wear this?” Roland asked with a note of wheedling in her voice as she was hustled into the courtyard by a pair of attendants. She had been dressed in one of the high-collared robes that bloomed out dramatically over the body, currently favored by the fashionable at court. The blue robes were weighed down with a profusion of silver embroidery, black velvet, and winking beads. Her sandy hair had been temporarily blackened to accommodate the frankly ridiculous false hair pieces secured to the top of her head, and her face had been dusted with white powder. She held her neck so stiffly under the weight that she reminded him of Edith as a teenager, attempting to walk with a teacup balanced on her head. 

“Mr. Hammond,” Laurence said, turning to that man with a withering look of displeasure. 

“I think she looks quite splendid,” Hammond said, beaming at her, quite unconscious of any sense of inappropriateness. 

Before Laurence could form a response, Dyer was led out from another corner of the courtyard, as stiff and miserable as Roland and dressed much the same, though his hair was hidden beneath one of the short Mandarin caps, and they had forgone the cosmetics. It was not lost on him that the blue of the robes more closely approximated Laurence’s long-gone naval jacket, and he experienced a moment of discord seeing his two runners dressed so, and he to match. He had a momentary vision of them as young naval officers that he was forced to shake his head to dispel. If he could have managed to have them at least in the bottle green of their own service, the moment would not have been so strange, but the politics came into even this. Wearing green when the Li house colors were blue would have been immediately understood as an insult, both to the Li clan and likely to the Dai, who had suffered a steep plummet down the social ladder. 

“Mr.  _ Hammond _ ,” Laurence repeated, setting aside the wandering thoughts.

“They are your wards,” Hammond said placatingly. “It is only appropriate.” 

“They are my officers, Mr. Hammond,  _ not _ my children!” Laurence had not contradicted Hammond’s implication that his two runners were his adopted children, largely because the notion had been passed onto the emperor himself. He had a notion that the charge of lying to the emperor was not one he wanted laid at anyone’s feet, even if it had been only a lie of omission.

“You are responsible for their welfare, their education, and their upbringing,” Hammond persisted. “They need not be anything more than that. Now, Miss Roland, do not fidget.” 

Roland, then engaged with attempting to covertly remove one of the dangling ornaments from her hair, stopped and glowered at him. Laurence thought fondly of the next morning, which would see them on their way and the Chinese court left far behind. The emperor’s permission to leave the country, “in order to discharge those duties demanded by honor,” came with an official banquet as leave-taking, where Laurence understood he was meant to be something of a centerpiece. Hammond would be attending as well in his official capacity as Laurence’s guest, and unofficial capacity as English ambassador. The banquet would last the whole of the day and well into the night, the schedule filled with various entertainments. Laurence could not decide if his role—to sit on a dias and be stared at—was a blessing for needing little input for him, or a curse for what would likely be an interminably boring and uncomfortable day.

“It is only for the day Roland, Dyer. I will thank you both for your indulgence in this matter.” The look Roland gave him from under her eyelashes could have stripped tar from a bulkhead. He met her gaze pointedly, and she flushed, quickly looking away. At her side, Dyer tugged at his collar until the young man who had helped him dressed flicked his hands. 

Laurence took in and released a slow breath, a bid for control with which he was becoming both increasingly accustomed to and severely annoyed with. “Let us get on with it,” he said reluctantly. 

Temeraire and Xiaqing waited for them on the heated courtyard stones, both dressed in their own finery of diadems and talon sheaths. Zheng and Li Jian waited some distance off as their escort, Lord Li Chia-Hao having already left with his own bevy of alphas. 

Li An Tien stood at Xiaqing’s side with Granby, speaking with quiet familiarity. Their conversation did not halt as much as taper off at Laurence’s approach. Li An Tien gave them a pleasant smile, his expression turning amused as his eyes passed over the still-sulking children. Li An Tien’s escort waited on Xiaqing, and a dozen of Laurence’s own men were strapped into the silken carrying harnesses with them, several chatting amiably-enough with their counterparts in a broken mixture of English and Chinese. They were in full uniform, Laurence having flatly put his foot down at the suggestion that they should be dressed in any other way. They were polished and carefully groomed to act as his entourage, and Granby had chosen only the steadiest among them for the task. The rest of the crew would receive their own entertainments and feast in a less formal, and likely more enjoyable, celebration at the Li estate. 

Peering interestedly down at their party as they approached, Temeraire said, “Roland, Dyer, what lovely robes. Laurence, don’t you think that they would make fine uniforms? Perhaps we might suggest it when we get home.” 

Laurence only barely suppressed the incredulous snort by turning it into a deep cough. “I think perhaps not, Temeraire,” he said. At his side, Li An Tien hid his mouth behind his sleeve, and Granby undertook a coughing fit of his own that had Temeraire eyeing them all suspiciously. 

“I guess it  _ would  _ be a shame to ruin them in a battle,” Temeraire admitted after a moment’s consideration, but he still lowered his head to the cobbles to admire Roland and Dyer up close.

“I think I would much rather  _ have _ a battle right about now,” Granby muttered, neatly voicing Laurence’s own thoughts. 

“You may find that the two are not so far removed from one another,” Li An Tien cautioned. “Shall we depart, gentlemen?” 

~*~

The official farewell was as strident a test of Laurence’s patience as any experience in his life. In that moment, he would have greatly preferred a desperate action, outnumbered and surrounded on all sides. Li An Tien had not been far off to suggest it had a similar flavor, though this was more akin to what Laurence imagined being under siege must feel like, trapped with a few allies while the enemy massed, hungry, at the gate. 

Laurence's only comfort the whole long day and night was Temeraire's pleasure in the event. He exclaimed happily over the music and the troupes of acrobats tumbling through complicated maneuvers and achieving truly impressive feats for their entertainment. A martial contest followed, six alphas in battle gear in one great swarm of limbs and flashing weapons. Laurence was hard-pressed to decide if it was a fight in truth or a performance. Each was individually so skilled that it seemed at times more a dance, though at others, one would land such a brutal strike that he could think it nothing more than serious combat. He had never witnessed the fabled strength of an alpha before, and it made his stomach twist uncomfortably as one lifted his opponent bodily into the air and threw him with enough force that he landed hard against a pillar nearly twice his body height off the ground. The clatter of his armor as he landed was enough to make Laurence flinch, but he only climbed back up to his feet and bounded gracefully back into the fray, moving with such speed and lightness that he seemed almost to fly.

Laurence’s initial relief at the end of the contest turned to speechlessness when the last man standing turned out to be not a man at all, but Captain Ruan Zhou. She shucked her helmet and stood with her chest heaving in a circle of her defeated opponents, her face flushed with pleasure and drenched in sweat. Her armor had built her slim stature up enough that he had thought her only a somewhat diminutive man competing against the much larger figures. 

As she turned to bow to the dias, Laurence finally recognized the bracelet he had given her, prominently displayed on her forearm. He flushed deeply at the sight, the burn across his cheeks and chest aided by alcohol to spread more quickly. As the alphas picked themselves up off the stones, he saw similar adornments on each, and thought he could be forgiven for not noticing. These must be the particular companions of the attending omegas, competing for their honor. Laurence, having not even realized he had a stake in the fight, found himself sickened by the realization. She was gifted with a beautiful blade for her victory, and for reasons that baffled Laurence much less than he wished they would, he was graced with a dozen compliments for her performance. 

"That was impressive," Temeraire said, clicking his talons on the stone as the defeated alphas left the field, one limping badly and supported by a former opponent. 

"Yes," Laurence agreed with some discomfort, letting Li An Tien accept the compliments on his behalf, inclining his chin to each speaker and hoping only that the high flush to his cheeks would be attributed to the wine, which had flowed in such quantities that he was having some difficulty parsing the language. 

Ruan Zhou was settled in a place of honor and toasted extravagantly as the party broke briefly into small clumps of conversation. She looked to Laurence only once and beamed when he hastily raised his glass to her. Afterwards, she was taken into conversation by Li Jian, and the evening's entertainment continued with a group of dancers in diaphanous clouds of sheer silks. 

After their performance, Laurence took the lull in the entertainments to excuse himself to relieve the pressure on his bladder, a wretchedly complicated affair in the weighty mass of the formal robes. When he returned, he stopped at Temeraire's forearm rather than continuing to the thick cushions provided for him on the dias. The emperor sat at the top of the short rise, Prince Mianning one level below him, and Laurence another level down with several others he did not know, but who were apparently princes or high-ranking officials in their own right. Hammond was once again dining companion to de Guignes, seated further in the crowd, and his own men had been tucked away out of sight.

He had not spoken to either the emperor or the crown prince the entire day, though he would have to give the emperor a formal address before the end of the night. He only hoped that his head had time to clear before the address with Temeraire providing a bulwark against further alcoholic assault. 

The runners, at least, appeared to have forgotten the discomfort of their ensembles and were thoroughly enjoying the event. Their individual tables had been set on either side of Laurence's own, with servants enthusiastically plying them with delicacies throughout the day. Prince Miankai was on the other side of the dias on the same level, and the three children had been pantomiming at each other whenever they thought themselves to be unobserved. As they were effectively on stage, this was a losing prospect from the start. 

"This is a fine send off," Temeraire said after a long moment. When Laurence looked up, he saw Temeraire also eyeing the runners as Roland covertly threw a powdered confection across the dias at Prince Miankai. Laurence opted not to notice even as Roland's attendant hastily grabbed her hand and urged her back into her cushion with a furious storm of whispers. Miankai picked up his own projectile, but it was confiscated before he could launch the return volley. 

"It is very generous," Laurence said, smiling for what felt like the first time that day. He put a hand on Temeraire's arm and smiled in genuine pleasure when Temeraire tilted his head to bring Laurence into focus. Temeraire had been richly feasted throughout the day on increasingly lavish dishes with Lung Qin Mei and Lung Qin Xiaqing as his dining companions. All three of the dragons were comfortably sated and sleepy with the great quantities of wine they had been offered in great bowls. 

"But, oh, I am so very excited to be leaving tomorrow," Temeraire confided after they had watched the dancers another few moments. "It will be splendid to fly again, as fast and as far as we’d like." 

Laurence did not let on how relieved he was to hear it. Despite their conversations on the subject and Temeraire's great excitement in the overland journey, Laurence had worried that he might secretly regret their leaving, that he might have grown content with the luxury and excesses of the court and perhaps might come to resent the return to active service, as it were. In the weeks since the adoption, they had taken several long flights to test Temeraire's stamina after nearly a year of very little activity. With Li An Tien or Li Jian as escort, they had ticked off a few items on Temeraire's extensive wish list, sampling the local cuisine and even paying a call to another clan in a neighboring province, the Gao, who were close allies of the Li. They could go no further than fifty miles from the capital, needing to be back at the guest house each night, but Temeraire had shown no strain over the flights.

"I could not be in more agreement, my dear," Laurence said. He gave in finally to desire and pulled himself up on Temeraire's forearm. He had kept himself on the dias since the sun was just at its zenith with few breaks, and the sky was just now fully dark. If there were any complaints in his change of seat, none were voiced directly to him as he struggled with the heavy layers of silk to find a comfortable position. He ended up perched cross-legged in the crook of Temeraire's elbow with the robes arranged like a tent around him, but was finally comfortable enough to lean back against Temeraire's warm bulk. 

Several minutes passed without any new performers taking the stage, and Temeraire took the opportunity to regale Laurence with the full menu of his gluttonous meal. At the conclusion of this, he blithely reassured Laurence he had asked a scribe to put the menu down for him so they could send it along in his final letter back to their friends before they left in the morning. 

He was so innocent in his pleasure of recounting it that Laurence could not feel it to be bragging, even when Maximus and Lily and the rest of their formation would certainly have never had anything like. Despite Temeraire's best hopes, they were similarly unlikely to experience such a feast at a future date. Laurence did fully intend to put the cooks to work recreating as many of Temeraire's favorites as could be managed, but the menu for the night represented a true extravagance that would be well beyond his purse, even if the ingredients could be found. 

A sudden explosion of noise and a burst of light made Laurence jump, a lifetime of training leaping to the surface so quickly that he very nearly shouted the men to stations, but Temeraire's rumble of approval stopped him just in time. A second firework went off, bursting golden in the air and leaving behind a faint after-image in smoke. Laurence slid a hand under his collar to feel his heart thundering beneath his fingertips and relaxed once more, watching the display. 

The fireworks ended in a final, brilliant display, and Li An Tien stepped up to Temeraire’s side to watch the last of the light fade in the sky. He reached up to set a hand on Laurence’s knee as the watching crowd applauded, the clicking of dragon talons nearly overwhelming the polite clapping of the human audience. Laurence let his hands drop and sighed, but he accepted Li An Tien’s hand and slid off of Temeraire’s arm, being careful that his robes did not catch on any of Temeraire’s scales.

“Temeraire, I need only make my address to the emperor, and we may depart,” Laurence said reluctantly, resettling his robes. 

“Oh, yes, of course,” Temeraire said. He lowered his head to add, “Do take care of your tones on the second line. Not that your pronunciation is not perfectly splendid, of course. No one could complain!” He repeated the line in question very slowly and said, “It is such a beautiful line, it should be said very slowly.”

In Laurence’s opinion, it was an intentional trick meant to confuse his tongue and should not be said at all, but he only stroked Temeraire’s soft nose and said, “I will take your advice, my dear.” 

Laurence’s final address to the emperor had been crafted with care by Li An Tien and Hammond, words selected and rejected until they found a composition that would not cause great offense if Laurence mispronounced the word. Temeraire had declared the result to be “very elegant,” which Laurence understood to mean exactly the opposite, but he had practiced it at length and Li An Tien had finally nodded his approval. 

“My son,” the emperor greeted without any particular emphasis as Laurence knelt and bowed over his knees to press his forehead to the floor. He had no injury to distract him from the humiliation of the act. Laurence felt a pang of guilt that he did not feel more conflicted by the greeting as well. It made even less impact than when Li Jian called him “little brother.”

Swallowing hard, Laurence made a false start, and then tried again. He knew what the words meant, that he was making grand promises of filial duty and to give all due honors to his imperial father, to discharge his duties and return promptly home. He had consoled himself in this that his duties would not be discharged until such a time as His Majesty no longer required Laurence and Temeraire’s service. The words were lilting, almost musical, and while he knew well that he hardly did them justice, the cadence of it distanced him from the promises he was making. 

The emperor shifted once on his throne, and Laurence heard a titter of laughter behind him. He suspected he had made a mistake regardless of his practice, but he had been assured that there was little chance of him making a mistake that would be anything more than amusing, so he continued. 

“A pretty speech,” one lord commented when Laurence had finished and bowed again. Following Temeraire’s advice, he had delivered the second line very slowly, and had given the same care to the last, where he habitually reversed the last two syllables. 

“We look forward to your timely return,” the emperor said simply. “Take strict care of your health. We expect news of our grandchildren.” 

Heat flushed up Laurence’s neck so quickly that it made his scalp prickle. He fought to control his expression and swallowed down several inadvisable comments. “I will certainly notify you immediately of any relevant details,” he said instead. 

The emperor cocked an eyebrow at him, but grunted his assent. The interview was over, and Laurence gratefully escaped the dias, backing down carefully until he felt Li An Tien’s hand catch subtly at his lower back. They bowed together and withdrew, their escort falling in around them as they returned to the dragons. 

The runners, starting to droop with the late hour and the overindulgence in sweets, dragged their feet as they followed along to Xiaqing’s side. Laurence alone stepped into Temeraire’s talon and stepped up to his shoulder. An abbreviated harness had been left attached to Temeraire’s neck chain like an ornament, and Laurence slung it around his shoulders as quickly as he could. 

“Let us away, Temeraire,” Laurence pleaded. He did not say  _ Before I am made to submit to some new humiliation _ , but it was a near thing. 

“You did very well with the speech,” Temeraire said once they were in the air. “Even Mei said she was very impressed.” 

“That is very handsome of her to say. It secured us our permission to go, and that is all that matters,” Laurence said, suspecting that if she had said so, it had been a polite fiction only. He had no illusions regarding his grasp of the language.

A leisurely ten minutes later, Temeraire landed in the courtyard of the Li estate. He stretched luxuriously. “We do not have to go  _ very _ early tomorrow, do we, Laurence?”

Even stuffed full of rich food and still swimming with wine, Laurence would be just as happy to have all the crew aboard and leave at once, but he could still hear the merrymaking around the guest house, and knew that none of the crew would be in a fit state very soon. 

“Not so very early,” Laurence said, patting Temeraire’s neck. When he had been set down, he took Granby aside to say, “Perhaps midday.” 

“Very good, Captain,” Granby said, obviously relieved himself as he turned toward the guest house. 

“It will be loud around the guest house for some time, I imagine,” Li An Tien commented. “Perhaps I can offer you a bed in the main house?”

Li An Tien had not been subtle in his attempts to get Laurence to relocate to the main house after the adoption. He had made a new suggestion every night since they had returned from the crown prince’s palace. Laurence had turned them aside and Li An Tien hadn’t pressed. Even after Laurence had determined on taking the overland route home, Li An Tien had continued asking, and Laurence had continued turning him down. 

“That would be appreciated,” Laurence said slowly, and was treated to Li An Tien’s expression shifting from quiet acceptance to surprise to pleasure.

“Sleep well, Temeraire,” Laurence said, though Temeraire’s great eyes were already blinking very slowly. His jaws cracked open in a great, fragrant yawn. Laurence quickly brought his sleeve up to cover his face and stepped out of the way. Temeraire was asleep by the time he closed his mouth, and Xiaqing and Zheng settled on his either side. 

Li An Tien led Laurence through the main gate, moving quickly through the inner courtyard and up the stairs, as though to give Laurence the least amount of time to change his mind. He brought Laurence through the main floor of the house, where Laurence had been often, and into the garden. The celebration over the wall could still be heard, though it was muffled by the swaying bamboo and burble of the stream running through the garden. 

They crossed a short bridge to a small house that had the feel of a cottage next to the great expanse of the larger house. Laurence was grateful for the embroidered slippers, as they came off with barely any effort at the door. If he had been forced to sit down in order to work off his tall boots, he would not have wanted to get back up. 

Laurence had returned to being his own valet in the last days, but he did not protest Li An Tien helping him out of the heavy outer robes and the collar. Li An Tien paused with the collar between his hands, his fingers smoothing over the golden chains. 

“Laurence,” he started, but then stopped. 

“You may call me Will,” Laurence said. He cleared his throat, the moment seeming to have more gravity than usual. He should have offered it weeks ago, but he had never been quite able to say it.

Li An Tien smiled brilliantly at him. “Not  _ didi _ ?” he teased, and laughed at Laurence’s answering glare. “Li Jian means well. You will grow accustomed to his… irreverent sense of humor.” 

“I hope you are not about to ask me to take him across the desert,” Laurence said. Li An Tien had not made the request yet, but Laurence had felt it between them like a looming weight that grew heavier with each passing day. 

Li An Tien shook his head. He finally set the collar down. “No, I have come to know you better than that. I have made myself content with the concessions you have agreed to,” he added dryly, giving Laurence a look from under his lashes as he arranged the collar over a stand on the side table. “But it is your last night here, and I hoped I might ask you a favor of you?” 

“Anything in my power,” Laurence said automatically and hoped he would not immediately regret the impulse.

“May I remain with you tonight?” 

Laurence blinked, startled. Heat flushed gently over his cheeks and warmed his ears. “Li An Tien…”

“To sleep,” Li An Tien said, his tone stradling chiding and teasing. “We will not see each other again for a long time. Is it too much to ask… Will?” 

The heat on his cheeks deepened. Laurence could say no, and he knew that Li An Tien would leave without complaint or ill feeling. He would not even need to speak; a simple shake of the head, and Li An Tien would go. 

Steeling himself, Laurence reached up to unclasp Li An Tien’s collar. Li An Tien ducked his head, holding his hair out of the way. He let Laurence help him out of his robes in a strangely domestic reversal of their usual roles that was made more odd by being so comfortable. The bed was one of the hard wooden platforms covered with a silk cushion, closed in on three sides, but wide enough to comfortably sleep two. Li An Tien settled himself against the far side and waited for Laurence to slide in next to him. 

The next night would see Laurence far away from one of the most profound experiences of his life, pulled from an unexpected bastion of support, and flying toward an uncertain future. Laurence lifted his arm and Li An Tien rolled into his side, warm and more familiar than many others he had known far longer. His breath feathered against Laurence’s skin, and Laurence closed his eyes to the gentle rhythm of another’s heartbeat. 

They drifted off to sleep with the celebration over the wall as a distant hum that seemed, in that moment, not unlike the susurration of a ship sailing on calm waters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This brings us to the end of Part One, lovelies at just over 100,000 words (eek!). Thank you so much for all your support so far. I appreciate all your comments, and I'm so thrilled you've stuck with me this far. <3
> 
> On another note, I have a Big Bang due for MDZS by the end of December. I'm going to do my absolute best to keep on top of this one, but please forgive me if I miss an update.


	22. Part Two - Chapter Twenty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! 
> 
> Thank you everyone for your patience! The MDZS Big Bang was finally posted and I am back to Temeraire!

Laurence found himself regretting his rash words in the argument with Li Jian when both Zheng and Ruan Zhou’s dragon—whose name, he finally learned, was Shao Lung Fengye—were waiting for them in the courtyard at midday. They were accompanied by a considerable escort of middle and lightweight dragons; the courtyard was so crowded with them that the lightweights were perched on the larger dragons’ backs to make room. 

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked, but not with much heat or expectation of a satisfactory answer. It was too much to hope for that they had been organized on a completely separate outing, coincidentally leaving at the same time as his own.

Smiling cheerfully, Li Jian reminded him, “You did say we could follow you to the border of the desert bugling trumpets.” 

Laurence gave up the fight immediately for lost. He could only be grateful that Li Jian had not taken the trumpets to heart, though he suspected that was only because there were no trumpets to be had. Li Jian seemed to have a personality that ran petty enough that he would have done so just to see Laurence gritting his teeth over it. 

They readied to leave just as the sun reached its zenith with Temeraire’s harness loaded onto a second of the reddish-purple Li Lung dragons. They had taken the harness without comment, and Laurence had offered no explanation. He had meant to simply put Temeraire under harness and leave before anyone could complain, but the escort would at least allow them to be far outside of the capital before that battle became necessary. 

Temeraire watched in an ill-temper as the crew boarded Li Lung Tao, his talons leaving shallow marks in the stones and the very tip of his tail lashing, much like an irritated cat. Li Lung Tao bore up under Temeraire’s suspicious observation with a kind of equanimity that spoke to long years of military service, and indeed, he had several scars on his flanks to prove his service.

Tharkay presented himself only as the preparations were nearing completion and Laurence was beginning to grow impatient, appearing out of the crowd with such a casual air that he could have been in the courtyard all along or may have only just arrived. He walked past Li Jian without a glance, though the other alpha eyed him with outright hostility as he made Laurence what seemed to be an overly generous bow in greeting. When he straightened again, there was a sardonic half-twist of a smile on his lips, and he met Laurence’s eyes boldly, despite the general disapproval of the surrounding guardsmen and servants still ferrying last minute packages to the dragons. 

Before Laurence could say anything, Temeraire gave the man a look of profound suspicion and declared, “You are alpha.” 

At Tharkay’s somewhat mocking bow in answer, Temeraire only issued a rumbling warning that Tharkay had better be on his best behavior before gathering Laurence close in a fit of jealousy. The rest of the party was ready to leave and waiting patiently by the time Laurence had reassured Temeraire of both Tharkay’s necessity and his own safety. 

The Li clan gave them a handsome send off, the entire household gathered in the courtyard to see them on their way. Lord Li Chia-Hao took Laurence’s face between his hands and kissed him on the forehead. As Laurence was a good three or four inches taller than the Li patriarch, he was forced to pull Laurence down to him. It was something of an awkward position, and Laurence only barely stopped himself from yanking away in outrage. His cheeks were nonetheless flaming with embarrassment when he stepped out of the older man’s grip.

“Be safe, and return home quickly,” Lord Li Chia-hao said. His expression was not easily read, and Laurence could not tell if the sentiment was genuine. In a great many ways, Laurence as an absent prince—whose name and lately-acquired familial connections could be used without needing to deal with him in his person—would be more useful than having him as a physical presence. Nonetheless, Laurence bowed from the waist and obediently made his promises, ignoring Hammond mouthing these along with him from behind the Li patriarch. 

Li An Tien said nothing, smiling softly as they exchanged bows. They had said their private farewells in the morning as Li An Tien had helped him dress for the last time and clipped the glittering collar about his throat. The night had passed without incident, and they had both been in a peaceful mood upon waking. Laurence had slept more soundly than any time he could readily remember, and there had been no awkwardness in the morning as they had prepared for the day.

Laurence turned and stepped into Temeraire’s talon to be put up. Only Roland and Dyer had been permitted to accompany him aboard, and they had both been wrapped firmly in new quilted flying jackets over their uniforms, their pockets stuffed with sweets and heavy boxes of snacks pushed into their hands. 

“Shall we be away, my dear?” Laurence asked, setting a hand on Temeraire’s sun-warmed hide. 

“Oh, yes,” Temeraire agreed readily. He shook his wings out and launched into the air, the force of his rapid ascent pushing down in a familiar, comforting way on Laurence’s shoulders. Temeraire’s wings snapped out like a sail taking the wind, pumping upward in great sweeps. 

He made only two wingbeats before Zheng, and then Fengye rose behind them. Shortly, the five assembled middleweights and a small cloud of couriers formed up around them so their shadow spread out over the imperial city like a massive flock of birds.

Roland turned around in her harness to look over their escort, saying wistfully, “It would be a sight to come home with them all behind us.” 

“No doubt,” Laurence said, but gave no further encouragement. He had very specifically  _ not _ asked about taking any additional dragons back to England. That they would be returning with Zheng and Fengye would already be enough of an accomplishment. Any more than that would surely require an official alliance between China and England. If Hammond could arrange such a feat, it would turn the tide of the war, but that would be a matter of State, and one in which Laurence had no standing whatsoever to negotiate. Zheng and Fengye would be there more as Temeraire’s personal bodyguards, granted to him by the Li family rather than the emperor. 

Temeraire’s mood turned cheerful as he stretched his wings into the flight. The territory passing under them was still familiar, but Temeraire was under no constraint to hold his pace, and they did not have to return to the city by nightfall. Zheng kept pace easily, but the bulk of their escort began to fall further and further behind as Temeraire stretched his neck forward and flew with tremendous speed for the sheer joy of it. 

Laurence hated to put a damper on his fun, but he was finally forced to put a hand on Temeriare’s neck and call forward, “It is not a race, my dear!”

Temeraire slowed, looking back at Laurence, and then stopped to hover. Zheng overshot them by two body lengths before making a lazy turn and coming back to hover just off Temeraire’s left wing. 

“I did not realize we had gotten so far ahead,” Temeraire said. He sounded slightly winded, but happily so. “Your speed is to be commended,” he added to Zheng. Temeraire had never had a flying companion who could keep pace with him when he really opened up, and they had not particularly tested Zheng’s speed during the earlier excursions. 

“We have often gone so quickly in His Majesty’s service,” Zheng said without any particular emphasis. 

“I see,” Temeraire said for lack of any other response, obviously uncertain if he was being mocked. For his part, Laurence was also unsure whether to be offended on Temeraire’s behalf, though he felt that he should for some obscure reason. Zheng, who was not verbose at the best of times, made no answer. 

“Do you see any place to land?” Laurence asked. They had been going without rest for nearly six hours, the miles flying by underneath them, and the sky was blushing pink and gold on the horizon. Roland and Dyer had been snacking on the lunch boxes the Li servants had packed for them whenever Laurence was not testing them on their schoolwork. He had lately neglected his duties as their schoolmaster, but they had certainly not suffered for it. At least in the mathematics, Laurence’s tutors had been far better able to instruct them, though he was cognizant with very nearly a sense of guilt, that they now had a better grasp of Chinese poetry than European classics. 

“There is a small town with a pavilion on the lake a short flight to the west,” Li Jian called over when the wind died enough for his words to carry easily. He pointed, and Laurence could just make out the glint of light on water through the trees. He looked back at the distant specks of their escort. 

He knew that any attempts to get Li Jian to leave them and fly back to their party would be ignored, so Laurence turned Temeraire back the way they had come to catch up the slower fliers. The middleweights were calling out a boisterous song as they flew, and Fengye had matched her wingbeats to it so that the party stayed all together. As they approached, Laurence saw several of the slender Jade dragons come to rest on her back for a break, while several others leapt off to take their places in the formation. Laurence had witnessed some dragon formations drilling during his stay at Mianning’s palace, but it was still a curious sight compared to what he had grown accustomed to in England. 

The Chinese aerial legions flew in great blocks of straight lines, much like men marching on the ground, and the synchronicity of their wingbeats was a sight to behold, even the Jade dragons, who seemed to be little more than hummingbirds against Fengye’s bulk, kept the pace by weaving up and down through the rest of the formation so as to not outdistance the slower dragons. This had a curious visual effect of the entire formation almost appearing to be one massive, sinuous dragon from a distance.

Temeraire stopped and hovered some small distance from them, but Zheng continued to within speaking distance of Fengye. At a loud call from the middleweight on Fengye’s port flank, the formation turned as a single body and angled slightly west for the designated stopping point. One of the Jade dragons opened up her pace and shot out from the formation like a sparrow, quickly outdistancing even what Temeraire could do at his best pace. By the time they landed, dinner was being assembled and a double row of attendants awaited them. 

Laurence was unsure why he’d thought that being bound for home would have made a significant difference in their reception, as though everyone around them was supposed to be suddenly made aware that he was once again a British officer rather than an omega prince. He thanked the attendants and accepted the hot meal gratefully, but begged off from the offered entertainments and ensconced himself at Temeraire’s side in the pavilion. Now that he’d cooled down from the flight, Temeraire was drooping with weariness. It had been his first day of real exertion since leaving England, setting aside the pair of sea battles en route to China. 

“Oh, I am tired,” Temeriare said, sprawling out on the heated stones of the pavilion after his meal of roasted cow, dressed in spices and stuffed with late summer vegetables. 

Upon landing, he had plunged almost immediately into the lake and had spent a happy hour frolicking in the water and being scrubbed snout-to-tail by a small army of servants. Roland and Dyer had been tasked with it, but they had spent much of the time playing, both having discovered that if they strapped the broad bristled brushes to their knees, they could slide down the curve of Temeraire’s neck into the water. Temeraire had mostly dried in the last dregs of the afternoon sun, but there was still a spreading pool of water on the heated stones turning the pavilion into a steamhouse.

“It was so nice to be out flying again, was it not? To fly as fast as one would like and for hours and hours without ever reaching the sea?” Temeraire asked while Laurence peeled himself out of his coat and removed his collar. 

Laurence scratched at the ridge above Temeraire’s eye and agreed, “Indeed it was, my dear. Though tomorrow, we had best make some concessions for the speed of the rest of our party.” 

“We are in a hurry though, are we not? You have said often in the last week that you regretted the delay waiting for the emperor’s permission to go.”

Laurence stifled his first response and scratched harder when Temeraire made a contended, almost purring noise and leaned into him. “At least until we reach the desert, we will go faster not having to double back to catch them up.” 

Temeraire slitted an eye open to look at him. “Are you very sure they will go home when we reach the desert?” 

“Oh, I am certain of that,” Laurence reassured him. As soon as he had a moment to take Li Jian aside, he intended to reiterate the order. An unrealistic wish had settled in him that Li Jian and Ruan Zhou would miss the  _ Allegiance _ on their return flight, but he knew that Riley was unlikely to leave without them except in the direst of circumstances. By Tharkay’s estimate, at nearly ninety miles a day—what Laurence had been assured was the standard pace for such a formation—it would take less than two weeks to reach the Gobi, where Laurence meant to turn Li Jian, Ruan Zhou, and the rest of their escort back. The  _ Allegiance _ would still be undergoing repairs by the time the party returned to the capital. 

“Might we start _ The Castle of Wolfenbach _ , Laurence?” Temeraire asked, though his voice was already slow with impending sleep. 

Laurence agreed readily, happy to at least have the benefit of a new novel in a more comfortable language to share. The men were all resting comfortably and out of easy earshot, and Laurence didn’t have it in him at that moment to make a request of any of the Chinese servants hovering more closely to the pavilion. He could not quite remember what the book looked like to explain what he wanted, and anyways, would just as likely end up with one of his omnipresent tutors reading to them from the  _ Analects _ if he tried.

Patting Temeraire affectionately, he went after the book himself. His sea chest had been set in the middle of the supply tent, and he was forced to shift a number of other packages aside to reach it, and then several more to give the chest enough room to open. 

Before leaving, Laurence had taken one final opportunity for a shopping trip to arrange for some gifts for family and friends. Most, he had left with Riley, but he had a magnificent glazed vase for his father, and a lacquered jewelry box inlaid with mother of pearl for his mother. For Jane, he had selected an elegant, simple necklace hung with a single perfect pearl. He had packed them himself, tucked between layers of clothing and books. Staring down at the shapeless packages, he felt all over again that they were less gifts and more apologies. 

The news of his orientation would likely spread in advance of his return, carried with Hammond’s report. He could not guess what reception he would receive from Jane, though he could not help but feel, in retrospect, that she would take their relationship—even as casual and impermanent as it was— for having been a shield, perhaps even a lie. Of his parents, he hardly needed to guess at the reaction. The packages were tucked into his chest, wrapped well in silk and wool batting, but he rested a hand on the largest of them and wondered if his father would even accept the porcelain vase, and what should be done with it if he did not. He shied firmly away from considering the gifts to his mother or Jane being rejected. 

Shaking his head to clear the maudlin thoughts, he gently pulled the package aside to retrieve  _ The Castle of Wolfenbach _ , a new novel he had obtained from Mr. Staunton, and brought it back to the pavilion. 

Temeraire sat up eagerly to listen, but was asleep within the first two pages. Mid-September, the air had grown crisp and cool, but inside the pavilion, the temperature was positively tropical. With his collar tucked into his coat pocket, Laurence leaned against Temeraire’s comforting bulk and fell quickly asleep himself.

~*~

In the early morning, Laurence gathered his damp coat and left the shelter of Temeraire’s sleeping form and ventured out into the pre-dawn gloom. His crew were just beginning to rise, coming out of the tents in sleepy ones and twos, but the Chinese crews were already awake and dressed in their uniforms. In the distance, some were even exercising, practicing that graceful martial art he had watched Li Jian use on several occasions. They moved in sync without any commands or cues that Laurence could see, flowing effortlessly from one set of carefully controlled movements to the next. 

Li Jian, however, was not among them. While Temeraire was still sleeping and the rest of the horde of people were otherwise occupied with their own morning rituals, Laurence wanted an opportunity to reiterate that he would not countenance the whole gaggle of an entourage slowing their progress indefinitely. 

After half a dozen startled looks from servants ferrying breakfast foods across the camp, Laurence remembered that his collar was still in his jacket pocket and fished it out as he continued his hunt for the alpha captain. He was still delicately untangling the myriad fine chains and beads when he heard Li Jian’s voice on the other side of a tent and changed course. 

He found Li Jian locked in a tense staring contest with Tharkay, standing so close that his crossed arms nearly touched Tharkay’s chest as they breathed. Li Jian’s voice was a low rumble and he spoke in Chinese, using the advantage of his height to loom over Tharkay, who only watched him in turn, expression nearly placid and body relaxed. Laurence did not understand everything being said, but he understood enough to go immediately tense with shock. 

“Captain Li!” Laurence snapped, startling both of the alphas. Li Jian stepped smoothly back from Tharkay as they both turned to look at Laurence. Li Jian’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes fastened onto Laurence’s bare throat before he hastily averted them. “I do hope I have mistranslated, and did not just hear you insulting, without cause, a man of my company, or, for that matter, a lady of which you have no occasion to even be thinking!”

Li Jian’s jaw went tight. “Mr. Tharkay and I were only having a conversation,” he said without his customary smile or light attitude. 

“Mr. Tharkay is my guest,” Laurence said, ignoring the way Li Jian’s eyes kept flickering down to his throat. It would be more accurate to say that Mr. Tharkay was his employee, but he would be damned if he would stand by and listen to any man in his company cast aspersions on the character of a lady as a means of insulting her son. “And his mother is certainly no concern of yours.” 

After a moment of tense silence, Li Jian turned back to Tharkay. He made a fist of one hand and cupped the opposite over it, holding them both at chest level and offering Tharkay a shallow bow. “Accept my apologies,” he said in English. 

“Must I?” Tharkay replied with no particular emphasis. 

Laurence pursed his lips. He could not force a man to accept an apology after having stood and listened to his mother being insulted. He was not sure that he would have been willing to accept a mere apology either if his own mother had been the subject of conversation, but he also could not have a pair of alphas fighting in the midst of his expedition. 

“Mr. Tharkay, Captain Li is my subordinate. How may I redress this insult on his behalf?” 

Tharkay gave him a look of mild surprise and Li Jian made an outraged denial that he quickly suppressed into a kind of choking growl. He deepened his bow and repeated his apology, more sincerely, in Chinese. 

“Think nothing of it,” Tharkay said in English, though his curious gaze remained on Laurence rather than Li Jian, who had gone a furious shade of red and trembled faintly in anger. 

Laurence nodded in acknowledgement and finally got the collar up to his throat. The silence in their small corner of the camp was so complete that the click of the clasp closing was loud and sharp. Tharkay looked down at the collar, and then back to Laurence’s face. His expression did not change, and there was no furtiveness about his gaze as he took in Laurence’s appearance. Again, Laurence felt very strongly that Tharkay was asking him a question he couldn’t understand to answer.

~*~

The long days in flight were as pleasing as they were frustrating. The weather was pleasant for flying and they had all the open air before them, a purpose driving them forward, and yet no need to anxiously watch the skies for enemies. All the same, Laurence and Temeraire both chafed at the restrictive pace of their escort, even though the speed was far faster than what they could have expected with their own formation. Zheng may have been best described as “laconic,” but he was a competent leader and kept the pace just one step down from brutal. They stopped for only a brief rest at midday, and otherwise were kept in the air from sun-up until an hour before sun-down. 

Temeraire, grown used to lavish meals, was unenthusiastic about the dinner that greeted them at the first evening camp they made when they were not within range of a town. Two of the middleweights had broken away from the main body of their entourage after the noon rest to fly to the nearest supply depot. They had returned with tonnes of grain to make a thick meat porridge that Laurence and the aviators all eyed dubiously. Even Temeraire’s dinner was only better spiced and better decorated than the dinners for the other dragons. 

“Is this the normal manner of supply for the aerial legions?” Laurence asked Li Jian curiously while Temeraire tentatively licked his portion out of the cooking pit. 

“Yes,” Li Jian answered without any idea how much he had shaken Laurence’s understanding of supplying a force of dragons in a single word. At Temeraire’s side, Zheng contentedly ate his own portion. “Lighter flying and easier supply.” 

“I see that,” Laurence said contemplatively. He looked up at Temeraire in concern. No matter how much easier it might be to feed dragons on more grain than meat, he would not stand by if Temeraire was either so put off that he wouldn’t eat his fill, or else found it to be insufficient for a day’s hard work. “Temeraire, is it quite alright for you?” 

“Oh, yes,” Temeraire said quickly, seeing the cooks nearby. He continued in Chinese, “It is seasoned quite nicely, and I suppose it is a change from the usual fare.” He said the last with an air of great graciousness that lodged a laugh under Laurence’s breastbone. He set to the rest of his meal with a great show of gusto that sent the cooks to bobbing excitedly. 

After he had finished his meal and settled to sleep, Laurence patted Temeraire affectionately and asked, “Have you had enough, my dear?” 

“It was surprisingly filling,” Temeraire admitted. He then lowered his voice to say, “But it is something like glue at the back of the teeth.” 

“Would you like me to rouse the men to take a brush to them?” 

Temeraire yawned. “No, I think it will keep until morning,” he allowed. “I believe they’re going to have more porridge for breakfast, though I did see some lovely fish being packed in a salt barrel with seaweed and peppers.” 

Laurence said nothing, though he had seen—and smelled—the same with considerably less enthusiasm. Ruefully, he admitted that as concerned as he had been about Temeraire having gone excessive nice in his tastes, Laurence may have been spoiled on the imperial feasts as well. He thought back to the years he had spent subsisting on little more variety than ship’s biscuit and whatever the hands might catch during the day and had to laugh. 

Temeraire, already going quiet with sleep, opened one eye to look at Laurence inquisitively. With as close as Laurence was to his head, he doubted he looked like much more than a blur to Temeraire. Laurence leaned in to set his forehead to Temeraire’s warm neck. His collar swung forward to brush against Temeraire’s scales, a flash of gold in his peripheral vision that put a damper on his earlier mirth. 

“I’ve only been thinking how much has changed recently.”

“And how much there is still to do,” Temeraire said by way of agreement. He lifted his head, craning his neck to bring Laurence into focus. “You will be quite safe when we return home, will you not?” 

Laurence patted him firmly on the shoulder. “I am sure even the lords at White Hall cannot argue with you, my darling.” 

Satisfied, Temeraire laid his head back down. “Well, they are welcome to try,” he said, unconcerned. After a beat, he opened his eyes again, and then narrowed them at Laurence. “If they order you to stay away from me like that wretched admiral last time, you will not stay away?” 

Laurence hesitated. In all the chaos of the threat posed by Yongxing, the multiple assassination attempts, and the running hitherto and fro learning new languages and Chinese court etiquette, Laurence had neatly avoided discussing how he would respond if he were  _ ordered _ away from Temeraire’s side. He was not sure—No. He simply wanted to  _ believe _ that he would be conflicted if ordered to stay away from Temeraire by any number of legal authorities, but he could not lie to himself so thoroughly any longer. It was a shocking comfort to listen to the mixed chatter of Chinese and English around the camp and realize that while he might be barred from his first home, he would not be without options if the worst should come to pass.

“That will not happen again, Temeraire,” he said lowly. 

After a moment, Temeraire said very firmly, “It certainly shall not.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was strangely difficult to write. It is very much a transitional chapter, and I was chaffing at the bit to move on to the good stuff. 
> 
> In other news - RL is being unkind to me, so I cannot promise that I will be as punctual with updates as I have been up to this point. Nonetheless, I will do my best not to leave you waiting too long between updates. Thank you very much to everyone who came back to check on me, I appreciate it a lot.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't promise that I will respond to all comments, though I try as long as I have the spoons for it. If you want to leave me a comment and do NOT want me to respond, include NRN (no response needed) in your comment.


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